


Much More Than

by CopperTine



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, F/F, Protective Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray Needs a Hug, Rachel Berry & Santana Lopez & Brittany Pierce Friendship, Rachel being Rachel, Sexual Abuse, Skank Quinn Fabray, Slow Burn, Smart Brittany S. Pierce, eventually, pay attention to archive warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperTine/pseuds/CopperTine
Summary: Rachel doesn't know how she never noticed Quinn Fabray before, but she's paying attention now. And what she sees troubles her.She sets out on a mission to befriend the pink-haired beauty only to find an ice wall blocking her path and along the way she finds best friends Santana and Brittany have a history with Quinn that Rachel had never known.How can Rachel befriend a girl so determined to be alone?
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 50
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't the first time Rachel _saw_ her. But it was the first time Rachel remembered _noticing_ her.

And she really wondered why she'd never noticed her before. Quinn Fabray practically begged to be noticed with her pink hair and her leather apparel. The simple truth of it was that Quinn Fabray was simply too far down on the social totem pole for one of the most popular girls in school to notice her.

She'd probably have gone on oblivious to Quinn's existence if it hadn't been for Brittany. Rachel never skipped class and made sure to take care of her lavatorial needs during a study hall or lunch. But Brittany had chewed too vigorously on her pen in class and it exploded in her mouth. Their science teacher had experience enough with similar Brittany accidents so she knew two things: Do not send Brittany to the bathroom alone because she might forget what she had been doing before and not return to class,\ and do _not_ send Santana to escort her because that was an even better guarantee that they would disappear for the rest of the school day.

So the teacher had selected Brittany's second closest friend to escort her to and from the bathroom. Brittany had beamed at the teacher, smile still infectious stained bright blue, grabbed Rachel's hand and practically pulled her out of her seat. 

Brittany cleaned herself off and the girls were heading back to class when there was a whirl of movement around the corner, a flash of bright pink hair, and then a body slammed into a locker. The pink haired girl sneered at the boy she'd shoved into the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. "Stop fucking following me, Miles."

Miles Brody. Rachel recognized him as a second string footballer. But the girl, who was she?

"Oh, _Quinn_ ," she heard Brittany murmur under her breath. Rachel turned to regard Brittany and was surprised by the small frown on Brittany's face.

Brody surged forward into Quinn's face, trying to intimidate her. Quinn didn't even flinch. "Come on Fabray, you give it up to anybody, everyone says so. Why not me?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I dunno. You smell. You're disgusting. Your hands are small and you know what _that_ means. A million reasons. Pick one."

Miles furiously raised a hand and that's when Rachel decided to step in. She stomped her foot firmly on the linoleum floor and it echoed in the empty hallway. Both Quinn and Miles turned in surprise. Rachel placed her hands on her hips and scowled deeply. Without even a word Miles fled in a panic. He was not about to cross _Rachel Berry_. Rachel smiled in triumph and rushed to Quinn's side. "Are you alright?"

The skin around Quinn's eyes crinkled in amusement and she looked down at the petite girl. "Rachel Berry, my, my. How chivalrous of you to step in on my behalf. I was handling it though."

"Hiya Q!" Brittany said brightly. The familiarity in Britt's voice shocked Rachel.

A softness fell over Quinn's face and she said, "Hello B."

"I'm glad you remember me! Sometimes I worried that you forgot me cuz we never talk and sometimes I forget people, but I never forgot you and I'd _really really_ hoped you hadn't forgot me," Brittany said earnestly, taking a step towards Quinn and opening her arms to envelope Quinn in one of her bear hugs.

Quinn took a step back and put her arms firmly against her sides. Brittany's face instantly fell in hurt and Rachel watched as something on Quinn's face cracked ever so slightly, but then she recovered quickly and she smiled. "I'd never forget you, B. I'll catch you later, 'kay?" Just like that she disappeared down the hallway.

Brittany looked at Rachel, forlornly saying, "She said 'later' last time but later never came."

Rachel didn't know what to say to that. She hadn't even known Brittany knew this Quinn. Brittany _did_ forget people sometimes, even people who she saw almost every day. If they didn't interest her (and people rarely _interested_ Britt) she didn't take the time to permanently catalog them. But she knew Quinn, had taken time to remember her, even though Rachel had never seen them interact.

The two of them hurried back to their class, but for some reason Rachel had trouble focusing for the rest of the period.

.

At lunch Rachel arrived earlier than her usual lunch group and was tasked with finding an empty table for them to occupy. She wasn't surprised to see that their usual table was vacant, it was the "cool table", but today her eyes traveled past it, scanning the cafeteria until- there. Sitting alone at a table in the corner was Quinn. The girl had a book in front of her and she was sipping at a soda as she stared intently at the text. Without even being fully aware she was doing it Rachel crossed the cafeteria and delicately placed her tray across from Quinn.

Quinn looked up and the same amused expression she had worn that morning crossed her face. Rachel smiled openly at Quinn and in an almost nervous flurry she said, "Hello, Quinn Fabray. We did not formally meet this morning. Just to make sure I had the right name I checked the yearbook during study period, which was easy because Miles Brody mentioned your last name and Brittany addressed you as 'Q', although the picture in the yearbook is very different from your current appearance, you must have dyed your hair sometime within the last year and changed your clothing choices as well, because the girl in the picture had long blonde hair and wore a cream cardigan-"

"Berry, could you take a breath and stop commenting on the way I look?"

Rachel ducked her head and blushed furiously. What on earth was that? She'd never gotten so nervous in her entire high school career. Well...not since that first month. She was _Rachel Berry_ for crying our loud. Captain of the Glee Club, manager of the Cheerios, the head of almost every club in McKinley High. She was popular and respected and she didn't _get_ nervous. But something about the teasing sparkle in Quinn's eyes made Rachel's stomach flip and her words stumble.

"I apologize. In no way did I mean to offend-"

"You didn't offend me Berry," Quinn cut off again. The mirth was still on her face but Rachel could see an undercurrent of annoyance starting to bloom in her eyes. Rachel steadied her breathing. _Stop making a fool of yourself, Rachel Barbra Berry. Calm down and_ focus _. No tangents. You kicked the habit._

She started again. "I just wanted to introduce myself outside of that rather heated situation. I am Rachel Berry."

Quinn chuckled softly and replied, "You do know that it's impossible to go to McKinley and _not_ know who you are right? Top-of-the-totem-pole-Berry?"

"I know, but I wanted to meet you and figure that marching in just assuming you would know who I am would be extremely rude."

A coldness unlike anything Rachel had ever seen settled over Quinn's eyes and Rachel got a chill that was strangely familiar. "And why do you want to 'meet me' all of a sudden?" Quinn asked in a flat voice. Her tone suggested that she didn't particularly _care_ why and wasn't too pleased by the idea. Rachel had no clue how Quinn had gone from playful teasing to stone cold irritation, nor did she have any idea _why_. What had she done?

"B-because...you seemed nice and...a-and Britt likes you and she's very particular," Rachel stumbled, though the truth of it was that she didn't know why she'd become do determined to get to know Quinn.

Quinn's eyes flashed and she snapped, "Well sorry to disappoint but I'm not nice. And B shouldn't like me. I haven't talked to her in years." Rachel saw something that looked suspiciously like pain cross Quinn's face. Then it was gone and Quinn was standing and picking up her things. "Nice talking to you short-stack. I hope it doesn't become a habit."

Rachel started to protest but Quinn was already gone. All she could do was sit in dumb disbelief. What had she done _wrong_?

"Were you talking to the ice queen Fabray?"

Rachel turned to look behind her, where her two best friends Brittany and Santana were looking at her with their individual expressions of confusion; Brittany's eyes wide and mouth agape, Santana's eyes narrowed and lips pursed firmly shut. Rachel smiled warmly. Just about opposite in every obvious way except where it really counted, their souls fit together like puzzle pieces. At times their bond made Rachel envious.

"Hello? Earth to the little elf. I asked you a question Rach," Santana snapped as she placed her tray down where Quinn had been sitting with a loud clatter. Anyone but Rachel and Brittany would have flinched at Santana's tone. Instead Rachel looked at her coolly until both San and Britt had settled before replying, "Yes, I was talking to Quinn. After meeting her in the hallway I thought I could get to know her, but the instant I suggested anything of the sort she ran out of here for no reason."

"You met her in the hall?" Santana asked and she gave Brittany a startled look.

"I was gonna tell you but then we got distracted by sweet lady kisses," Brittany said with a pout. "Q was being chased by a mean footballer but Rach and I got him to go away."

Santana's face darkened for an instant, then it vanished and she shrugged. "Don't get bent out of shape, R. Queenie Quinn won't let anyone get past her glacier walls."

"Do you know her?"

Santana paused for a moment, then said, "She was our Cheerios cap for about a week in freshman year. That's about it."

"San, don't you dare lie," Brittany scolded. Santana crossed her arms over her chest and scowled deeply. Brittany turned to Rachel and said, "Quinn was our BFF all through middle school. We were gonna run McKinley together, but a week in she quit Cheerios and said we'd just hang out outside of cheerleading. Then she stopped talking to us."

A memory tugged at Rachel but just as quickly her subconscious pushed it away. Both Brittany and Santana watched her face apprehensively for a moment. Rachel gave them both puzzled looks. "What are you staring at? It's not like I'm mad I didn't know you were friends. I didn't know either of you until about a month into high school."

Brittany and Santana exchanged a look and wordlessly agreed to leave it at that. It was, however, not in Rachel's nature to do such a thing.

.

Quinn was finishing lunch in the library for the first time since freshman year. She was not pleased to say the least. Stupid Rachel Berry and ruining her system. She just wanted _off_ the radar. Bad enough B had tried to strike up a conversation as if nothing had happened since they were fourteen. It'd taken almost three months of eating in the library and a complete ice out for San and Britt to try to stop contacting her. If the hobbit had ruined all that, Quinn was going to kill her.

The bell rang and Quinn headed off to her customary place under the bleachers. Quinn had a deal going with all of her teachers: she would keep getting straight As and come in for tests and turn in homework every day in their office mailboxes and they'd mark her in attendance. The only annoying teacher who hated this arrangement was her Spanish teacher, a young and optimistic man named Mr. Schuester. He made her come to his classes every damn day or else he'd give her detention. He thought that he could make Quinn some sort of case of his and "save her", never mind that she was one of his best students anyway. He even tried every few weeks to get her to join the obnoxious Glee Club. Quinn wasn't about to join, not even for special treatment and no detention for the rest of her school career.

Mr. Schuester was fucking _infuriating_. Quinn didn't know what Ms. Pillsbury saw in him.

When Quinn got to the bleachers the Skanks, a gang of three girls whose sole goal in high school seemed to be going unbathed and to be as outcast as they could possibly be, were already there. Quinn was their unofficial leader, but the great thing about the Skanks was that they didn't expect a thing from her.

Quinn understood not wanting to be part of the crowd. But not to be contrary like the other three girls. Quinn just really hated having to interact with people.

Their names were Sheila, Ronnie and The Mack. Quinn didn't talk to them much, which they seemed to take as a sign of her authority. It helped to have a posse. If they felt their leader was threatened they converged like worker bees and attacked. Just another line of defense to keep people away from Quinn.

The Skanks acknowledged Quinn with nods and went back to talking about how lame everyone else was. Quinn sat down on their threadbare couch and began to read again.

Apparently the day was cursed.

Mr. Schue, in all his mostly imagined authority, happened to be walking by. Quinn could tell he was already in a bad mood, probably from a meeting with Coach Sylvester. Even though the Cheerios and the Glee Club shared a good fourth of their members Schue and Sylvester hated one another. Sylvester liked to bug Schue as much as possible every chance she got without actually sabotaging Glee Club. Her prized Cheerios were on the team, after all, and though she wanted their focus entirely on Cheerios it could backfire if she did something too drastic.

So Mr. Schuester was having one of his tantrums and when he saw the Skanks he zeroed in on Quinn. "What do you think you're doing Ms. Fabray?" He demanded. Without even waiting for an answer he grabbed the fabric on her shoulder and hauled her to her feet.

"Assault!" Quinn growled at Mr. Schue.

Schuester just shook her, eyes angry and disappointed, and rose his voice to accuse, "You could be so much better, Quinn. I don't understand you!"

"Understanding me is not a requirement," Quinn replied. Her Skanks hung back but were obviously frustrated that they couldn't defend their Queen. Even they wouldn't tangle with a teacher.

"What do you think you're doing, marmalade head?" Quinn and Mr. Schuester turned in surprise. Sue Sylvester stood with her hands on her hips at the entrance to the bleachers. "Is your new hobby accosting young ladies on school property? Moved on from the young boys have you, Will?"

Mr. Schue immediately let go of Quinn but he stood his ground. "Quinn was ditching classes _again_ , Sue. I was taking her to the principal's office."

"Seems to me you were just yelling at her very unprofessionally," Sylvester said with an evil smirk. "Is she even one of your little chirpers? I thought Fabray was one of the students who had enough sense to stay far far away from your little club."

"She's not in Glee but she's still my responsibility as one of my students. I can't stand to see her throw away her potential."

Coach Sylvester turned cold blue eyes to regard Quinn. "Fabray, how are your grades?"

"Straight As, Coach," Quinn replied automatically. Even though she had only been a Cheerio for one week Sue Sylvester defaulted to "Coach" in Quinn's mind. Sue smirked and turned back to Mr. Schue.

"Seems that little Quinnie here is smart enough that she can fly through school without listening to the insipid drawling of the idiot faculty and she _knows_ it. In my book that makes her the most intelligent student at this school even if she did stupidly quit my Cheerios."

"There are rules," Will protested angrily.

Coach Sylvester took a step forward and lowered her voice. "Let me tell you a little something about rules and special people, Will. Special people like me and Fabray don't have to follow rules. Rules are for the sheep. Fabray already gets the world, and she uses that knowledge to do as she pleases. She'll get somewhere with that, even if her hair is the color of Pepto Bismol and she tattoos a piece of bacon across her forehead. You on the other hand will be stuck teaching mindless teenagers how to wipe their butts for the rest of your life. God knows what Berry, Pierce and Lopez see in you."

Schuester puffed up with indignation but didn't have a rebuttle. With one final glance at Quinn he fled. It was impossible to battle Sylvester on a _good_ day.

"Thanks, Coach," Quinn said softly. Sue scrutinized Quinn with narrowed eyes, then nodded. "You're still one of mine, Q, as much of a failure as you were for my expectations." Quinn fidgeted under Sue's gaze. She always got the sense that Sue could read her thoughts and that was a horrifying notion. Coach Sylvester kept eying Quinn then finally said, "Come with me. If Schuester goes whining to Figgins I can say I punished you with manual labor."

With that Sue turned and started to march away. Quinn didn't hesitate to follow. Sue had done her a huge solid and she wasn't going to mess it up by not doing what she asked for the day.

Coach Sylvester lead her toward the locker room and Quinn assumed she'd be picking up towels and throwing them in a washer for the next hour. But when Quinn entered the locker room she froze. The entire Cheerios squad plus their student manager Rachel fucking Berry were assembled and waiting. When the coach saw Quinn's shock she grinned devilishly and said, "I arranged a free period for the Cheerios and Twinkles to practice today. They're horribly unprepared and nothing says 'work harder' than a few punishment practices right after lunch."

"And you want me to do _what_?" Quinn asked flatly, trying hard not to look at the three girls standing in front who were now staring at her intently.

"Teach the loser freshman that cheer you were working on before you bailed on the one good thing you could have had at this school."

"Are you crazy?" Quinn asked before thinking. "That was over two years ago. Why on earth would you expect me to remember?"

"Because you had the most potential for a star cheerleader I have ever seen. Maybe not the most athletic girl, but you were a captain before I even handed you the title," Sue said sharply. Quinn flinched but tried to hide it, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. The most annoying thing about the entire situation was that she _did_ remember the damn routine. Sue didn't even have to be told.

"What makes you think I'll do this? I'm not a Cheerio."

"Seems to me you owe me one. I could have you little perfectly sculpted butt in detention before you could trip into another scruffy leather-clad boy's arms."

Quinn lifted her chin defiantly but didn't say a word.

"Alright, groups of three," Sue yelled and all her Cheerios began to scramble. "Advanced with B, normal with S, failures with Q. Twinkles, make sure everyone's doing what they need to do. Becky, with me. We have files to shred." A girl Quinn didn't know rushed after Sue eagerly.

A group of girls stood expectantly in front of Quinn, either confused or nervous or openly sneering at her appearance, obviously doubting her cheerleading abilities or convinced Coach Sylvester was setting Quinn up for failure. Quinn ground her teeth in frustration. Well, if she was going to do this, these little freshman were not allowed to doubt or talk back. Quinn sighed and ran a hand through her bright pink hair, and with that her entire demeanor changed. Shoulders back, feet together, hands on her hips, head-bitch-in-charge face so terrifying all the sneers and confusion disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by fear. "What do you losers think you're still doing in this changing room? Gym. NOW!" They fled.

Quinn chuckled under her breath. She still had it.

She followed them out of the McKinley gymnasium, where the other two groups were already practicing. Berry sat on the sidelines and would occasionally call the name of a girl not pulling her weight. That girl would immediately snap to attention.

Quinn walked over to her disorganized group and snapped, "Three lines of four, bitches. Eyes on me." She spun so her back was to them and walked through the steps exactly once, then spun back and demanded they repeated flawlessly. The girls frantically tried to repeat what they'd seen but only managed to collide into one another haphazardly. Quinn grimaced and started to yell corrections.

This continued for about an hour until Coach Sylvester emerged from her sanctum and called everyone to attention. "Status report, Rachel!" she shouted.

Rachel began to recite from a notepad. When she got to Quinn's group she paused, then said, "More improvement than expected. Still not up to par with the rest of the squad, but-"

"Butts belong in spandex, not sentences. Fabray, I should have known you wouldn't be up to the task. Back here tomorrow after lunch," Sylvester ordered.

Quinn scowled and crossed her arms. "No way! This was a one-off. It's not my fault you picked freshman who can't learn one measly routine. I'm done."

Sue's voice lowered and she smiled wickedly as she said, "Not until those girls are in tip-top shape you're not. Or I'll personally make sure you get detention every day until my girls place first, which will be impossible at the rate we're going."

"Ms. Sylvester, I must protest! This is blackmail-" Rachel started to exclaim.

"Course it is Twinkles. It's what I do." Rachel deflated a little. Sue turned back to Quinn. "With you in charge of the losers it'll take you two weeks tops to get them all synced with the rest. It's not the worst job I could give you." Quinn bit her lip, but she was trapped. Detention would mean no Celibacy Club, the best part of her days.

"Two weeks max. If they aren't ready by then they're unteachable."

"Agreed," Coach immediately said, ignoring the freshmen's nervous twitters. "And Fabray, wear the uniform. You're as stiff as cardboard in those jeans. How are the tweedledums supposed to see flawless cheering in that?"

"Only in here," Quinn growled.

"Get out now," Sue said triumphantly. She looked at her Cheerios. " _All_ of you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. This is cross-posted on ff.net and is fully up to date there. As it's new here I will be posting a chapter at a time on a weekly basis until it's caught up. If you cannot wait, it can be found on ff.net easily. 
> 
> I have been working on this steadily for five years and drafted parts before that. I am committed to finishing it and I hope that it reaches a further audience here on A03. Times have been tough, we have lost a beautiful soul in Naya Rivera, and I hope that this fic is entertainment in these times.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do either of you know why Quinn quit Cheerios? She was really good today," Rachel asked as she, Santana, and Brittany headed toward Glee Club after school.

Santana looked pissed by the line of questioning but Brittany shook her head and replied, "Nope. She just left without a word. It was real weird too cuz it was all she could talk about over the summer. She was _so_ excited. Coach basically fell in love with her the second they met. She was the first freshman Captain _ever_. Coach gave her the title the Friday before she quit. She came back on Monday and handed in her uniform."

"She looked like she was enjoying herself today. I wonder why she gave it all up."

Santana halted in the middle of the hallway and turned to Rachel, eyes afire. "Don't matter why she quit. _She_ don't matter. Just _stop_ trying to figure her out, Rach! You won't ever. 'Sides, if she hadn't quit we'd never have become friends, _mi hermana_. So don't even wonder, cuz this is what was meant to be. _Entiendes_?"

Rachel nodded quickly, completely thrown off guard by Santana's angry outburst. Santana turned on her heel and headed toward club. Brittany took Rachel's hand and squeezed comfortingly. "San was super hurt when Quinn stopped talking to us. Me too, but my hurt stays hurt. San's hurt turns into anger, but it's all still the same. I still miss Quinn and I think San does, too. But I'm glad Quinn stopped talking to us cuz it meant we became friends with you." Brittany beamed at Rachel happily, but then her face became serious and she said quietly, "But sometimes I wish Q would be our friend again and then all four of us could be besties." With that she took her hand out of Rachel's and jogged after Santana.

Rachel frowned at the floor. Quinn seemed to have been important in Brittany and Santana's lives. Why would she drop them? Rachel knew from experience they were some of the best friends anyone could ever have. And from the looks of it Quinn was all alone at McKinley. Did she not _want_ friends? How could that be? Why would someone purposefully ostracize themselves from everyone? There _must_ be a reason.

No one deserved to be lonely. Least of all someone as pretty as Quinn.

What? Where did that thought come from? Pretty?

Sure Quinn was pretty, but what did that have to do with _anything_? Rachel shook her head as if to clear it.

Still, she wanted to reach out to Quinn. The girl looked so isolated and unhappy. And that made Rachel ache. Maybe she could befriend Quinn and help mend the relationship between the three former friends! Brittany would be so happy and Santana would most certainly be grudgingly grateful. An image of the four of them laughing and sitting together at lunch filled Rachel with a surprising rush of happiness. Yes! It was all coming together nicely. No wonder she had zeroed in on Quinn. Her sixth sense had kicked in so that she could help.

Rachel squared her shoulders proudly and walked the rest of the way to Glee Club with new determination.

As soon as she rounded the corner her smile grew exponentially. _This_ was her home. She liked being popular and she liked helping out with Cheerios, but glee club was all she truly needed. This was absolutely where she belonged.

"Uh oh, she has that look on her face," her friend Kurt Hummel said teasingly. "What's the big idea now, mon capitan?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry Kurt, nothing to do with Glee unfortunately."

Kurt sighed dramatically. "Pity. We are so unprepared for Sectionals. Mr. Schue, _tell_ me you have ideas in the works."

Rachel took a seat as Mr. Schuester began to throw out ideas. As Glee captain she _should_ be giving feedback, but she was so absorbed in her new plan. There were over thirty kids in glee club, someone would come up with something. It didn't have to be all down to her.

When she'd joined the glee club in freshman year, it had been run by a Mr. Sandy Ryerson. She had been the only new kid to join. When she befriended Brittany and Santana a few months in Brittany had liked the sound of singing and dancing for people, so she and Santana had joined. Shortly after Santana had gotten Mr. Ryerson fired for being creepy and pervy (her words, Rachel didn't know all the details). Mr. Schuester had stepped up. Because of new Queen Bee Santana's endorsement people had trickled in. People who genuinely liked to sing, people who just wanted to sit near the popular spotlight, it didn't matter. Glee Club accepted everyone. Rachel made sure of that. She wanted anyone to feel safe and welcome.

Her first month of high school had been positively _awful_. Name calling, books shoved out of her hands, things thrown. If Rachel hadn't ended up helping Britt with math one day (and being genuinely nice to her, not condescending and superior like everyone else), Rachel dreaded to think what high school would have been like.

Rachel adored Brittany immediately, because honestly who wouldn't? And anyone who liked Brittany was OK in Santana's books. And the rest was history. Santana got people to stop being mean to Rachel under penalty of being sent to the bottom of the school pyramid and soon Rachel herself became popular.

Glee Club was a place for anyone to belong.

Of the kids in Glee, Rachel was friends with only a few and acquaintances with the rest. Footballers Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford had been some of the first boys to join, along with fashionista Kurt Hummel and band geek Artie Abrams. And besides Rachel's trio, the first two girls to join had been Mercedes Jones and Tina Cohen-Chang. They were the originals, the kids who loved to sing and dance. Some of the newer members liked to as well, but most were content to sway in the background for a chance to say they were a part of McKinley's popular New Directions.

But the nice thing about McKinley's relatively new world order was that you didn't need to be in New Directions to be treated nicely.

Once Rachel had obtained any sort of social power, she'd tried her best to put an end to all bullying. Word out was that if you were a bully you were lowest of the low in the social rankings. Rachel couldn't cut it _all_ out of course, as one of the popular kids sole weapons to keep other kids in line was their tongue and it was impossible to completely pull in Santana. But no physical stuff was tolerated. No throwing into dumpsters, shoving, kicking, throwing things. All gone.

Rachel prided herself in McKinley's golden age.

Rachel raised her hand and attentive silence fell. "Mr. Schuester," she said in her most animated voice, "Perhaps a selection from the popular musical In The Heights? As a powerful Latina, Santana would most certainly rock out the song 'Breathe'."

Santana elbowed Rachel affectionately and Brittany clapped at the suggestion. All was well in Rachel Berry's world.

.

Rachel had one idea about her regime. Quinn had another.

Not that Rachel hadn't improved the lives of geeks at McKinley. She had. Geeks were out of bounds. But bullies had to direct their animosity _somewhere_ apparently. Since geeks were promoted, the second least popular band had been shoved to the bottom. The wasteoids and the skanks, the goths and the quiet kids not affiliated with any official grouping. Quinn found herself lumped with the new targets of all the bullies.

The once mostly ignored kids now had to watch their backs. Burnout boys were thrown in dumpsters and locked in port-a-potties and beat up and no one noticed because those kids hardly went to classes _anyway_. No one worried about a missing skank, they were perpetually missing. Quinn couldn't count the times she'd gone looking for one of her pseudo-friends to find them cornered in some deserted hallway, surrounded by laughing boys. More than once she'd had her shirt pulled away from her back to have freezing slushie dumped down it.

And there was that time she'd found one of the hockey players pining Mack to a wall. His hand was up her shirt and Mack was crying. Quinn had broken the boy's nose and almost got suspended, but Ms. P stepped in on her behalf.

McKinley High was still a crap school. Just in a different way.

But Quinn could deal. She could put up with the catcalls of "whore" and "slut", even though not one boy at McKinley could truthfully claim to have laid a hand on her or seen anything besides her wearing a swimsuit for gym. It wasn't as if they were technically wrong, not that any of them could ever _know_ that. She could deal with the shoves and the crude notes and people stealing her shit. It was all better than home.

Besides, she had two hours of absolute peace every day after school.

No one was in Celibacy Club but her and Ms. P.

According to the rules, a club wasn't allowed to exist with only one student. But Ms. Pillsbury had gotten Figgins to make an exception. She thought more kids might eventually join and promoting abstinence was in Figgins' best interest. No one else ever did join. Which was absolutely perfect for Quinn.

If Quinn had one friend, it was Ms. Pillsbury.

Ms. Pillsbury was kind and didn't pressure Quinn to 'participate'. Most of the time they passed the two hours of club reading quietly. Sometimes Quinn would tell Ms. P about what she was reading or offer her book recommendations.

At the beginning of each club meeting, Ms. Pillsbury would pull out a tupperware and open it to reveal two triangle halves of a PB&J with the crusts cut off. One side belonged to Quinn. They'd eat and then talk or read or both. And at the end of each club meeting Ms. P would pull out a bible and they'd flip to a random page, point, and that was officially the stanza they'd discussed at length in club that day.

Quinn lived for Celibacy Club.

When Quinn told Ms. Pillsbury about the blackmail, the usually calm and peaceable ginger-haired woman visibly reddened with fury. Ms. P _hated_ Coach Sylvester. According to her, "We have enough student bullies that not a person in the faculty can keep a hold on. The fact that we have one _on staff_ is appalling." Ms. P wanted to go to Figgins with it but Quinn calked her out of it. Because honestly, it wasn't any big deal. And as Quinn saw it, after two weeks of free help Coach would be on the owing side of things.

At Quinn's explanation that she had owed Coach a favor after the run-in with Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury shook her head, trying to hide the look of affection that crossed her face. "Mr. Schuester just worries about you, Quinn. You're an exceptional student and he's scared you'll throw it away.

"But I _haven't_ ," Quinn muttered impatiently. "I've been a good student since day one and my grades never slip. He has no right to judge if I'm living up to my potential if I'm consistently acing his tests and turning in homework. Just because I look a certain way and do certain things-"

"Well, I get that, Quinn. And I've talked to him about it. He just has this idea that if everyone acts like they don't care you will _stop_. We don't get many like you, Quinn. The truth of it is that you'd be this school's pride and joy if you didn't dress the way you do or skip all your classes. But you're not 'marketable' to the parents or school board. So even though you're a golden student a lot of the teachers see you as a lost cause."

Quinn bristled and snarled," Well, I'm glad I'm not some product to be auctioned off or some shit, Ms. P!"

"Language," Ms. Pillsbury chided gently. She smiled and Quinn relaxed as she only could with the counselor. Ms. P looked at her like- well, it couldn't be love. But it seemed close. "I know. And in many ways, I'm glad you're not that girl. You're _you_ and this is the Quinn I share a sandwich with every day." Ms. P giggled softly against her fingertips. "Maybe I'm selfish, but I don't want to have to share you with the other teachers. And I know you, I know you'll do just fine out there." But then she paused and her big doe eyes went somber. "I worry about you sometimes too, though."

Quinn looked away and said awkwardly, "I know Ms. P. It's sweet of you, cuz I know it's not just cuz you feel obligated to. But I'm fine, you don't have to give me a second thought."

Ms. Pillsbury's eye looked sad. They sometimes got that way when she looked at Quinn. Like she knew there was something wrong just below the surface but she couldn't see it clearly through the ice. Sometimes it made Quinn scared. What if Ms. P started to push too much? Would she have to give up celibacy club, too? The only thing that kept her going? Ms. P never did push. Quinn knew if she had any idea she _would_ push. But she didn't. Quinn would keep it that way.

"So what are you reading today?"

Quinn smiled genuinely and opened her book.

.

Rachel had a plan of attack.

According to Quinn's schedule (she had her ways of getting these things), they had almost the same classes every period. Problem was, Quinn was never _in_ any of them except Spanish that Rachel could remember, even though her attendance record was practically absence-free. A chat with the principal's office secretary revealed that Quinn came in every morning at 7:30 and dropped off all her homework into the teacher's mailboxes, and she showed for all tests. Since she was an A student and that reflected well on their teaching, not one of the teachers complained about the system. One less potential disturbance to deal with.

Rachel didn't want to sneak attack Quinn, so she decided her best bet would be to be as friendly as possible for the two weeks that Quinn would be working with the Cheerios. Build a rapport and after the two weeks were up invite her to hang out. Maybe be partners with her for some kind of Spanish project. Small things. When Rachel had been younger she'd had a problem with being too intense with people. She still had a powerful personality, but had learned to not overwhelm people as she once had. It felt terribly _slow_ , but her success rate had gone up a great deal.

She had not been prepared for Cheerio Quinn.

When Quinn came out of the changing room wearing a Cheerios uniform, Rachel's jaw dropped. She looked like she belonged in one even with the pink hair. Quinn had tied her hair up a bit from its wild mane-like quality. It was tucked loosely behind each ear where it hadn't been caught up in the ponytail. She wore less coal black eyeliner and her lips were moist with gloss.

She looked _so_ kissable.

Rachel blushed from top to bottom at the stray thought. She spun away and made a dash for a bench on the sidelines, but not before Quinn let out a harsh laugh and yelled, "Glad you picked your jaw up off the floor before any drool could make some Cheerio slip and fall."

"Shut your trap, Fabray," Santana yelled from where she and Brittany were stretching out. Quinn extended a middle finger the latina's way but Rachel noticed that Quinn wouldn't look at her. Rachel heard some muted Spanish swear words and then Brittany's quiet soothing tone.

Rachel breathed out shakely, then stood up again and walked back toward Quinn. Screw embarrassment. She would live. Quinn looked startled but tried to cover it up with a smirk. "And what do you want, Berry? I don't even understand exactly why you're _here_. Is McKinley's new mascot a gnome?"

"That's it!" Santana screeched from across the gym and Brittany had to grab her to stop her from running at Quinn. Rachel saw Quinn's entire body switch to defense far too easily. Upon further inspection, Rachel noticed a slight discoloration towards the middle of Quinn's forearm. Was that a bruise? Rachel felt an uncomfortable sinking in her stomach.

"Relax, San," Rachel called over her shoulder. Quinn's gaze shifted to Rachel and she narrowed her eyes in distrust. Rachel smiled and said in a gentle voice, "You don't have to be so defensive, Quinn. We'd all love to be friends here." She wanted more than anything to reach out and place a comforting hand on Quinn's arm, but every instinct in her body told her it would be ill-received. So instead she just smiled openly, hoping that putting herself so far out would be enough of a start.

"Fuck that! I don't want to be her friend!" Santana said angrily. Quinn's face became impassive and Rachel's heart broke. Lost in an instant. But then the pink-haired girl shrugged and muttered in a low voice, "Whatever. I can play nice for two weeks. Sorry about the comments, Berry." And she went over to her assembled group.

Hope fluttered in Rachel's chest.

.

As the week passed, Quinn began to become playfully teasing again, as she was on that first day in the hallway. But Rachel started to notice as it became more genuine. Santana still wouldn't speak to her and Quinn avoided both Santana and Brittany, but every break in Cheerios practice Rachel would seek her out and strike up a conversation. At first, Quinn had seemed both parts mystified and annoyed by Rachel's persistence but soon Quinn started to tease and then laugh with and then _smile_ during their chats. Every time Quinn would smile genuinely even just a little, it filled Rachel with an indescribable amount of joy.

On Friday when Quinn said, "See you next Monday," instead of just leaving without a word like she had the days before, Rachel knew she'd made a thread of connection.

The marked improvement in the girls Quinn was coaching made Ms. Sylvester as close to happy as she ever got. All she said on the matter was, "About time," but Rachel could see she was pleased.

Over the weekend, when Santana and Brittany came over, Santana complained loudly about the amount of effort Rachel was putting into trying to befriend Quinn, but Rachel ignored her. Britt looked uncertain about the whole situation but finally asked in a hopeful tone, "Do you think Quinn is starting to like us again?"

"I don't think she ever stopped," Rachel answered honestly. Everything about Quinn screamed loneliness and loss and when she thought no one was looking she would glance longingly at her former friends. Rachel still had no idea why she'd pushed them away in the first place, but she had the distinct impression Quinn hadn't wanted to.

At her response, Britt's brow furrowed in confusion and she looked like she wanted to question it, but one look at Santana's furious face made her stop.

On Monday, the fates aligned. Mr. Schuester announced a group project. Groups of four. It could not have gone better if Rachel had planned it (ignoring the fact that she had subtly mentioned a lack of group projects to Mr. Schue the week before). Rachel shot out of her seat and went to the back, where Quinn was writing something in a notebook and looking irritated at the prospect of working with others. When she noticed Rachel, wariness settled in her eyes. "What, Berry."

"Be our fourth?"

Quinn bit her lip and her eyes traveled past Rachel. Rachel turned to see Santana glaring daggers from across the room. But Rachel was relieved to see that both Cheerios were waiting to see what would happen rather than looking for a fourth themselves. "It doesn't exactly look like I'm wanted," Quinn said hoarsely, trying to keep her voice sounding bored instead of pained.

"I want you," Rachel blurted before should could stop herself.

Quinn's eyes narrowed and Rachel flinched. There was a long moment of silence, and then a grin formed on Quinn's face and she laughed. "Relax, Berry. Keep your lust in check and I'll be your fourth. Don't know if you're fully aware of what you're getting into here, but I can't say anyone else was chomping at the bit to work with me."

"Bits are cruel and should not be used on horses," Rachel fumbled. Quinn rolled her eyes as Rachel mentally kicked herself. Honestly, it was as if she developed some sort of mental block around Quinn Fabray.

Quinn followed Rachel back to her seat and waved half-heartedly at the two Cheerios watching her intently. Santana was practically vibrating with rage and kept shooting glares Rachel's way. Brittany had her hands in front of her chest and was nervously fumbling with her fingers until finally she couldn't seem to take it anymore and she said, "I'm afraid I'll say something wrong and you'll leave again and then we'll never ever get a chance to be friends."

Like magic the icy wall around Quinn melted away and her face was open and gentle as she said, "You don't have to be scared, B, I'm not going to up and leave. We're partners now. I'm sorry for scaring you."

At these words Brittany relaxed completely and she beamed at Quinn. Without hesitation she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Quinn solidly. Quinn stiffened. After a moment she returned the hug, but Rachel didn't miss Quinn's shaking fingers before they locked around Brittany.

"Oh good! I can't wait to be your partner. We can be _friends_ again and San and I will totally get you to like Rachel even though I knew you wanted to not like her freshman year, but I think that was-"

"Britt," Santana said sharply, and three heads turned in shock her way because she was _never_ sharp with Brittany. "Don't get attached. Don't let her _fool_ you. She's just gonna leave again after this project's done. We aren't going to be friends again." Santana stepped forward and locked eyes with Quinn over Brittany's shoulder. She stared her down threateningly until Quinn lowered her eyes, then sneered as she said, "I know you, Fabray, don't forget that for a second. Don't you _dare_ lead B on and go off and break her heart all over again. I'll kill you if you do."

"I wasn't going to," Quinn breathed into the fabric of Brittany's uniform. She stepped away from Brittany with her eyes downcast and hands back woodenly at her sides. "It's just a project Brittany. Listen to Santana, OK?"

Brittany looked on the verge of tears, glancing uncertainly between the three girls around her. Rachel stepped forward and took Brittany's hand. "Both of you need to _stop it_ ," she said firmly to Quinn and Santana. "Neither of you know what's going to happen. Britt was just happy. You don't have to be so protective of B's feelings, San, she can handle herself quite well. And Quinn, don't you _dare_ let Santana bully you into backing off. That's not the Quinn I've seen this past week. Now sit down and shut up if your comments from now until the end of this period don't have anything to do with this group project."

Santana huffed something in Spanish but sat down obediently. Quinn stared at Rachel in astonishment for a second before doing the same. She pulled out a notepad and hid a smile behind its open pages.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic sexual abuse ahead. I'll denote where it begins and ends with ... instead of . as a paragraph break.

With both Cheerios practice and a Spanish project, Rachel was slowly working her way into the cracks of Quinn's defenses. Rachel was steady and persistent in her pursuits to get absolutely _anything_ out of Quinn. A smile, a laugh, a friendly comment. As these responses became more and more frequent, Rachel started to notice a strange flutter in her chest at even the sight of the pink-haired punk. Rachel started to observe and appreciate new positive qualities that Quinn had. Like how even though she was a Skank, she bathed properly and always smelled faintly of lemons. And how her nose ring was a little crystal stud that sometimes caught the light just the right way. How her steps were light and graceful even wearing big, clumpy combat boots. How incredibly smart Quinn was, how funny and sharp. How her eyes were hazel flecked with gold and when her smile was for _once_ honest, the gold would seem to sparkle as if they were actually shavings of the precious metal embedded in her eyes.

But noticing the good meant noticing the difference between a happy Quinn and a _normal_ Quinn. Genuine smiles were few and far between. Her eyes were most frequently cold or blank, with the latter being most common and most heart-wrenching. When she put on a fake smile it looked like sculpted plastic, perfect at first glance so that no one noticed the complete lie behind it. Sometimes her smile became feral and cruel and Rachel had to look away in wordless terror. And noticing that Quinn's skin was porcelain pale and generally flawless meant noticing the instant the smallest bruise or injury would mar her flesh. It happened with unnerving frequency. A patch of smooth skin would be perfect one day and have the tiniest mark the next. Once Rachel even noticed one appear between Spanish and Cheerios. When she'd ask on it, Quinn had looked at her blankly and said in a flat voice, "I'm clumsy." But not one thing about Quinn Fabray could claim to be clumsy. Rachel knew that because, well, she _had_ been watching her near obsessively for almost two weeks now.

All Rachel could do was anxiously push her observations to the back of her mind. Because the bad could mean so much worse and the _good_ that Rachel saw could mean… not good at all for Rachel.

.

The end of the second week came too quickly. Quinn's charges were on par with the rest of the normal ranked Cheerios and she was officially out of the grasp of Coach Sylvester. Quinn wouldn't be coming back to practice. The very thought made Rachel's stomach hurt. But they still had weeks yet to do their Spanish project and this was the only thing keeping Rachel from going into a panic. She still had time to get Quinn to be their friend.

Interaction between Quinn and Santana had improved at a snail's pace, meaning they now didn't talk to one another and refrained from flinging insults. This was a relief since the yells of "whore" and "lesbo" that had occurred during their first out-of-class meet-up had been particularly brutal. Quinn and Brittany were now on speaking terms, but every time B would try to inch forward, Quinn's wall would go firmly back up. Their relationship stayed frozen in place, but Brittany didn't stop trying.

The one relationship that had grown comfortably was the one between Rachel and Quinn. Quinn would now look for Rachel on a regular basis upon entering a room. Once she'd even _come up_ to Rachel first during a break. The progress was noticeable. Not as much as Rachel would have _wanted_ perhaps, but Rachel did always aim high.

When the week ended, Rachel caught up to Quinn after Cheerios practice and asked if they could work on the project sometime after school.

Quinn froze and her eyes went wide. There was a long, unbearable pause. Quinn shifted her weight slightly away from Rachel and averted her eyes. In a low voice she said, "Would Santana and Brittany come? Because I don' think that would work."

"They don't have to," Rachel said uncertainly.

Quinn's lips pressed together in a thin line. She kept opening her mouth as if to say something, then just as abruptly would close it. Finally she closed her eyes and when she opened them a steel had appeared. "My house, after school, next Monday. Three-thirty to five." She said it in such a way that Rachel was sure there was a hidden 'take it or leave it' buried in the text. Rachel nodded. Quinn turned and walked away without any further exchange.

Rachel had _all weekend_ to prepare.

.

When Ms. P heard the new development, that one Rachel Berry was going to be going home with Quinn on Monday, she became so excited that she let out a literal squeal of joy and started bombarding Quinn with questions and tips. Quinn rolled her eyes affectionately. Ms. P had been practically bursting at the seams since Rachel had taken an interest in Quinn and Quinn wasn't immediately shoving the girl away. She was more excited for this 'budding friendship' than Quinn herself. "Having friends is an important and necessary part of high school life," Ms. Pillsbury informed Quinn every chance that she got. Quinn didn't think that was true, she was _fine_ without friends, but Rachel wasn't… horrible to have around. But the fact that she came with S & B kinda was. It was like a slap to the face by cosmic forces, like God reminding her daily, "You can't have friends, Quinn Fabray. They might notice something up."

_A year and a half. You can make it._

"So your other two partners aren't going to your house though?"

Quinn stopped herself from flinching. "No. They can't." Not a complete lie. Good. She didn't like lying to Ms. P outright.

"That's too bad. Maybe some other time."

"Mmm," Quinn hummed noncommittally.

"Well I hope you two have fun! It sounds like an inspired project!"

"We're just making up a fake country," Quinn said with a laugh. Honestly, Ms. P thought _everything_ Schuester did was 'inspired'.

"Still!" Ms. Pillsbury went on to gush a little more about Schuester and Quinn tuned her out. She started listening again when Ms. P asked, "Are you sad you won't be doing anymore Cheerios coaching? I know you didn't hate it." Quinn locked eyes with Ms. P and couldn't miss the gentle concern there.

"Fuck no. Waste of my time."

"Language."

"Sorry, Ms. P."

They talked a little more about various topics until suddenly Ms. Pillsbury's already large eyes went wide and she said, "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I didn't think of this before! Why don't you ask Rachel to join Celibacy Club?"

"No," Quinn said fast and firmly.

Ms. P's face fell and she nodded. Quinn felt bad but not bad enough to change her mind. Celibacy Club was _hers_. Her safe haven, her secret. What if Rachel came and they had to _talk_ about celibacy? Ms. P would feel obligated to share her and Quinn's sandwich, but her OCD ways wouldn't like having to split it three ways so she'd probably stop bringing it altogether. And what if they _didn't_ talk about celibacy like they normally didn't and Rachel went and told someone and suddenly her sanctum was _invaded_ by people? No. Celibacy club was for her and Ms. P.

And Ms. P didn't push because in some ways Quinn thought Ms. P liked it that way, too.

.

On Monday, Rachel was ready.

She'd prepared her project notebook, a secondary last minute adjustments notebook that she could get messy, all the possibly necessary pens and highlighters and tabs they would need, some star stickers to decorate, and a thoroughly nervous Rachel Barbra Berry. Because this was _so_ important. First contact outside of the school grounds. It could make or break entire relationships. It could land people firmly in the 'just school friends' zone.

She hadn't mentioned the invite to San or Britt and a part of her felt awful about that. But she wasn't purposefully lying, just lying by omission. And it wasn't as if either of them had asked why she was skipping Glee.

Rachel had a suspicion that they might have an idea about it though.

She met up with Quinn outside the school. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Had Quinn been wearing that shirt in Spanish class? In one hand Quinn carried a plastic bag. Rachel could see colored liquid pooling at the bottom. When Quinn noticed Rachel approaching she purposefully moved the bag behind her legs and plastered one of her trademark faux smiles onto her face. Rachel desperately wanted to ask, but the situation was delicate already. Instead when Quinn asked if Rachel was ready to go, she nodded mutely.

Rachel was surprised when Quinn led her to a polished silver Camaro and motioned for Rachel to get in. Quinn owned _this_ car? For some reason she'd been imagining a beat-up van or an old Volvo, or maybe a motorcycle. Something that would better match Quinn's personal style. As if reading her mind, as soon as Rachel slid into her seat and closed the door Quinn said nonchalantly, "Birthday present." Rachel nodded understanding. This car matched Yearbook Quinn much better than Skank Quinn.

The ride was awkward. Between Rachel's intervals of silence followed by spastic chatter and Quinn's quiet responses and nervous drumming of her fingers on the steering wheel, it could not have been more awkward. When Quinn finally pulled in front of a large two-story house it was a relief for both of them to get out of the car. Rachel's eyes went large when she finally took in Quinn's home. It was _huge_. As close to a mansion as one would find in Lima, Ohio. "Whoa," Rachel breathed out before she could stop herself. She blushed and stammered, "It's beautiful, Quinn."

"Not like I built it," Quinn replied dryly. 

They went inside. Everything was perfect. Spotless. Not a wrinkle or smudge in sight. Rachel felt like she was stepping into a museum. Like no one actually _lived_ there.

Quinn halted in the foyer and crossed her hands over her chest. There was a pause and then Rachel said haltingly, "So, um, your room?" Quinn's head jerked up as if she'd forgotten Rachel was there, then she said woodenly, "Follow me," and started upstairs.

Quinn's room was… pink. Rachel immediately felt uncomfortable. Everything was frills and shiny polished wood. Like… like a _little_ girl's room. Like it hadn't changed since Quinn was six. Quinn looked out of place in her _own room_. Quinn took off her leather jacket and opened her closet and at _last_ there was a glimpse of Quinn, even some cardigans from her early high school years, but as soon as it closed again it was as if they were in a small child's room. It was creepy.

Quinn sat at the edge of her bed. Rachel put on a showman's smile and said in a chipper tone, "We can just hang out for a bit before getting into any schoolwork."

Quinn shrugged and replied, "Sure, whatever you want." Rachel blinked, confused. Why was Quinn acting so subdued?

"… I can't believe it took us so long to meet! What with our mutual acquaintances."

At this Quinn looked up and eyed Rachel with curiosity. "We met before."

"What?"

"You don't remember?" Quinn asked, startled.

"…remember what?"

Quinn fidgeted and tried to say in a blasé voice, "You know, freshman year, first week of school. I tripped you in the middle of the hallway and told everyone to avoid you because they might 'catch the gay'. I can't believe you forgot this."

And that's when it clicked. Why Quinn's coldness was eerily familiar, why Rachel got nervous around her, why B & S had seemed worried when Rachel found out they'd been friends with Quinn. She'd tried so hard to block out the first month of freshman year that she _had_ forgotten one crucial part.

Quinn had started it all.

" _You're_ the reason I was ostracized for the first month of high school?! I was tormented _endlessly_. The only reason it stopped was because you apparently stepped down as Queen Bee and Santana took your place, and I was nice to Brittany without any threats. How- how could you have _done_ that to me? I didn't even know you!"

Quinn shrugged but Rachel could see a blush forming on her cheeks. "I dunno. I needed a target to seal my place as a ruler at McKinley and you… you caught my attention."

Rachel stomped around Quinn's room angrily, but not once did the idea of leaving or forgetting her quest to be Quinn's friend cross her mind. She just needed to work through her hurt. And also-

"Apologize."

"What?"

"I said 'apologize'. To me. For what you did. You could have ruined school for me, I could be friendless and lonely, Quinn! Actions have consequences. You were a bully and owe me an apology."

Quinn worried her lip and avoided looking at Rachel. She ran her hand through her hair and finally in a cracking voice said, "I'm sorry, Rachel."

It was the first she'd called Rachel solely by her first name.

Rachel had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. It was pathetic, honestly, that those three words were all it took for Rachel to forgive her. So she wouldn't say anything stupid she just nodded. A softness fell over Quinn's face. "I didn't expect you to accept so easily," Quinn teased, but there was real affection in her voice.

"I'm a naturally forgiving person," Rachel said with a laugh.

The tension left as quickly as that.

Rachel pulled out the work and they started talking about it and making notes, in between all the easy non-school related chatter. They found out everyday facts about one another: Rachel was a vegan and Quinn could never be because she loved bacon too much, they'd both taken dance classes when they were little, Rachel dreamed of Broadway and Quinn dreamed of just about anything that would get her out of Lima, they both ran in the early mornings to keep in shape. They got stuck debating who would win in a race because Quinn was convinced that running on a treadmill "was fake running" and "hardly counted".

"It's a tried and true form of exercise! They have treadmills in gyms!"

"Gyms are for pansies. What, people can't regulate themselves so they pay someone else to?"

"Quinn!" Rachel said with a huff, but they were both madly grinning at one another.

"I'm gonna go get us some snacks. Endangered caribou and ostrich eggs sound good?" Quinn said as she stood, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"I will take my food cruelty free, thank you," Rachel replied primly.

Quinn shook her head and left her room.

Rachel stayed still for as long as she could. But the temptation to explore proved too great for her and Rachel gave in and stood to roam Quinn's room. Everything was pale pastel or glittered. She was struck again by how _young_ the room looked. Rachel knew a thing or two about sparkles, her room had its fair share and Santana often teased that her room looked like it belonged to a ten-year-old. Quinn's took the young vibe to a whole _other_ level. There wasn't even a hint of makeup on Quinn's vanity, only ceramic unicorns and a cluster of fake jewelry, even a tiara. Only when Rachel opened the vanity's drawer did she find a mess of makeup and jewelry, as if it was hidden away from sight. The room just felt _off_.

Next to the tiara was a picture of a young Quinn with pale blonde hair and a serious face. As Rachel looked around the room she saw more pictures of Quinn through the ages. Always alone or with a man Rachel assumed was her dad. No mom, no friends. It made Rachel feel terribly sad for her. She picked up the most recent picture of Quinn. Her hair was long and curled at the end, her smile was fixed and her stance was rigid. Even with those things, Quinn was the most beautiful girl Rachel had ever seen.

Rachel heard a footfall behind her and turned to see Quinn with a tray of ranch dressing and assorted vegetables. Quinn looked at her quizzically when she saw what Rachel held. "I-uh-" Rachel fumbled as she set down the picture. "You're a very pretty girl, Quinn." 

The reaction was instant. Quinn's smile dropped, her eyes went cold, her face clouded. "Get out."

"What? What did I-"

"OUT!" Quinn yelled so furiously that Rachel practically ran past her in her haste to follow her command. She left her backpack in her rush to get away from Quinn.

Rachel had no idea what she had done, but it must have been terrible to illicit that reaction from Quinn.

She didn't know that Quinn put the platter down on her desk, went to her bed, curled around her pillow and started to sob.

...

She should have known.

She should have _known_ that's what Rachel wanted.

It's what _everyone_ wanted.

She was so stupid to have let her in this far. Hadn't she _seen_ the way that Rachel often looked at her? She'd even commented on it a few times just to see the diva squirm. But she hadn't- Quinn hadn't expected Rachel to try something so _quickly_. She was cursed. Dye her hair pink, wear ratty clothes, and she was still cursed. Nothing could change who she was.

_Dirty whore slut bitch cunt waste_

Quinn's nails dug into her palms and she cried until there was nothing left in her. She didn't even go down to make dinner.

So that's where her dad found her, curled around her pillow in the fetal position, eyes hidden by a mop of tousled pink hair. She didn't move when she heard him enter, didn't make a sound when he sat down on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair out of her face.

"Quinnie? What's the matter princess?"

Quinn ignored him. Hoping that somehow _this_ would be the day that her dad left her room without anything else. But just like every other day he stayed. And it must have been something _about_ Quinn that always made him stay.

""Was it another mean boy, Quinnie? You know how boys are."

_Please go away._

"You gotta be careful out there. I worry about you going to that school dressed like a whore, but had hoped that you were right and all the boys would avoid you, suspicious of disease and damnation. But we might have to rethink your wardrobe choices if you come home upset when a boy tries to sleep with you."

_No. Freedom to dress this way is one of the few things I have._ "It was the Berry girl. She made a pass at me."

She could see the hatred bloom on his face. "Little bitch dyke, perverts that whole damn family. Scared my little girl something awful and no wonder too. My Quinnie wants to be righteous. We'll call it an early night, then. Go get dressed for bed, Quinn."

Robotically Quinn went to her dresser for her pajamas. She pulled them out and started to change. Russell Fabray didn't leave as she undressed.

He never left.

Quinn sat on the side of her bed, head hung low and eyes staring sightlessly forward. Sometimes, if she was just the right amount of tired, she could go so far into her head that she wouldn't remember a thing. But mostly she remembered. And when Russell Fabray buried his face against her neck and grabbed her breast and it felt like she could count every stubble on his chin and like his hand was on fire, she knew that tonight she would remember.

He pushed her onto her back and his hands were brands touching her all over as he tugged off her pajama top again and started to suck hungrily at her collar bone, slowly making his way down. It was the worst when he dragged it out. Finally his lips found her nipple and her whole body responded even though Quinn's brain screamed at it not to. She was a dirty little girl just like he always said she was.

His hand slid down into her bottoms and Quinn bit down hard on her cheek. She was as dry as bone but he didn't even notice as he shoved two fingers into her and started to roughly move them in and out. As if on accident his thumb grazed her clit and she bucked against it instinctively, causing Russell to smirk hatefully from ear to ear.

"Dad, please," Quinn whispered close to tears, and she was begging him to stop as well as begging him to finish and she hated, hated, _hated_ herself with everything that she had.

When she was so close to climax she could feel it popping like fireworks behind her eyes, Russell quickly withdrew his fingers. Quinn let out a whimper and closed her eyes, and Russell bent low to her ear and said, "Finish it if you have to." And Quinn knotted her fingers into the fabric of her bed for the briefest of seconds because she wanted to prove him _wrong_ , but he was right and she put her own hand between her legs and finished, feeling the amazing and awful rush of climax shake her body to its core. Quinn buried her face in her pillow with shame and heard the disgust and _pride_ in his voice as he left and said, "Sluts can't help themselves. At least you'll always be daddy's pretty girl."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: History of sexual abuse talked about.

When she was seven her mom left.

Only it wasn't so much 'left' as 'was thrown out'. Judy Fabray was forced out after she caught Russell staring at Quinn one too many times and tried to leave with her. She got about a mile away before a cop car stopped her for swerving because Judy happened to be drunk when she tried to leave her husband with her daughter. Russell charged her with custodial interference and courts didn't have much trouble taking the side of a upstanding white male citizen over a drunkard.

This admittedly hadn't sat well with Quinn's older sister Frannie, who had been waiting for a ride home from school during the great escape attempt. All of sixteen, she'd been understandably upset that her mother had tried to take off with her baby sister and hadn't really cared where Frannie happened to be. The age gap between the sisters had made them distant but friendly with one another, Quinn being the sister truly invested in the relationship for the chance at an older sister's approval.

Judy had unintentionally shredded that relationship to pieces.

And when an extremely confused Quinn had approached her older sister with questions about the way her father was starting to treat her, Frannie had yelled at her that she had always been the favorite with both her parents and she was a dirty, selfish liar.

Needless to say when Frannie left for college they hadn't really kept in contact.

With Judy out of the way, Quinn was Russell's do to with as he pleased. It started small, as grooming can, with lingering kisses and insisting on helping her change for bed. Russell instilled in Quinn a healthy dose of God-fearing and an even bigger helping of self-hatred. "It's your fault that I do these things, Quinnie, you and your feminine wiles. I know, baby, I know you don't mean to, but that's the lot for women." Her dad was a grown man and knew this stuff and Quinn had to _learn_. Pleas of "Daddy no, please stop, it hurts," were answered with, "It's okay, I can't stop, you're mine baby." It didn't take a whole lot of training for Quinn to go silent.

As she got older it got rougher and there was more Russell made her do, but according to Russell they never had sex because it would be an abomination. That meant no vaginal or anal penetration with a penis. That didn't mean he couldn't penetrate her with anything else, things that probably hurt a whole lot more.

Russell didn't let Quinn have friends, not even before her mother left. According to him all the people in Lima were sinners, even the ones he made nice with each week at church. Then Quinn hit middle school and she decided to be rebellious. She made friends for the first time.

Their names were Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce. Santana shared Quinn's learned low opinion of everyone else and Brittany made Quinn start to believe that maybe people weren't black and white. It was hard for Quinn to reconcile her dad's beliefs with ideas from the books that she devoured. Brittany started to make it even harder. At first, Quinn thought Brittany was stupid and only made nice with her so that she could hang out with the cool Santana. Quinn soon realized that Brittany had a child-like sort of wisdom to her. She was all hope and innocence, something that neither Santana or Quinn had an abundance of. Quinn started to love her for it. Love _both_ of them. They welcomed her in and it felt better than anything she'd ever experienced.

Quinn started to hang out with them every second she could and they bonded fast and irrevocably. Or so it felt at the time. Russell let Quinn have them because a kid at twelve with no friends looked more than a bit odd and he wanted to avoid more counselor calls. He liked that Brittany girl even if the dirty Mexican followed her everywhere like a furious tidal wave.

One day toward the end of seventh grade, Quinn finally invited them for a sleepover at her house after the hundredth sleepover at one of theirs and the inevitable question, "When can we see _your_ house?" Her dad wouldn't _do_ anything with them around, surely. And he didn't. He let them girl out in Quinn's room ("This is your _room_ , Q? It looks like a unicorn shit it out." "Unicorns are _awesome_ , S!" "Yeah, I guess…") and left them alone except to order pizza and tell them lights out. Quinn had to bashfully tell the girls that there were no locks on the bathroom doors (there weren't locks from the inside on _any_ doors in Quinn's house, only locks on the outside and Quinn's dad had the key). Santana had given her a long stare and then took Brittany's hand to go to the bathroom. Quinn blushed crimson when she heard Santana whisper to Brittany in the hallway, "If you need to go in the middle of the night wake me up, B, don't go alone. These crackas be crazy."

But in the middle of the night it wasn't Santana that Brittany woke, it was Quinn. Brittany shook Quinn awake and with wide, apologetic eyes she whispered loudly, "San's a sound sleeper sometimes and this is one of them. I feel bad breaking her first promise but her _second_ was don't go alone and I'll feel better if I can keep a part. Please come with me?"

So Quinn went with Brittany to the restroom.

Her dad was in the hallway.

His eyes sparkled in the dark. Brittany smiled politely. Quinn was silent.

"Hello girls! Off to the bathroom? I just went, what a coincidence."

"Yessir, Mr. Fabray," Brittany said with a nod.

"Well, I'll see you two in the morning. Goodnight, Quinnie. It's wonderful to have you here, Brittany." Russell Fabray vanished down the hall.

Brittany watched him go, a considering look on her face, then she turned to Quinn and said, "He was kind of like a ghost sneaking up in the night! Spooky." With that she went into the bathroom.

Quinn stood by the door.

And when they went back to Quinn's bedroom, Quinn stayed awake. Standing guard over Brittany.

Quinn never invited them over for a sleepover again. Santana never questioned it.

With high school on the horizon, Quinn became obsessed with the award-winning Cheerios team. Not only were they athletic, not only did they have skills that Quinn envied and wanted to learn, they spent a ridiculous amount of time away for competitions. Most of the time out of the county, sometimes out of the goddamn state. That seemed like _heaven_. Quinn easily convinced Santana and Brittany it was where they belonged. They practiced all summer before ninth grade, Brittany taking to it easiest and teaching both Santana and Quinn handsprings and backflips. They were some of the most prepared girls to ever try out. They got on the team easily.

Sue fell in love with Quinn, her new pet project, and named her Head Cheerio.

That Friday, Quinn proudly wore her cheerleading uniform home.

Her dad had nearly ripped the zipper off.

And afterward he said, "I bet Brittany looks great in this. I can't wait to chaperone."

Quinn had felt everything in her shatter.

He'd been mentioning Brittany more and more since the start of summer when he'd picked Quinn up from practicing with the girls one day and seen them in workout gear. And Quinn knew, she knew that it was too risky.

If she got Brittany hurt, she'd kill herself. If Santana didn't get to her first, which she'd have every right to.

Quinn did the only thing she could think to do. She exorcised her best friends from her life.

Who had she been kidding, thinking she could have friends.

...

Rachel quickly figured out the reason that Quinn had kicked her out. Quinn had thought that Rachel was hitting on her (which was Rachel's fault, _why_ had she called her a pretty girl?), and because Quinn had a reputation at the school as being 'loose', Quinn had assumed that Rachel bought in to the gossip and had been insulted. It made perfect sense for her to be upset. And Rachel felt horrible for it, even if she thought that Quinn's reaction had been a bit over-the-top.

She had to figure out a way to make it up to her. She also had to figure out how to retrieve her backpack without the interaction being completely awkward.

Rachel needed to discuss this with someone but Santana and Brittany were clearly out of the question. She had to resort to other friends.

She pulled out her phone and typed up a quick text.

_S.O.S, need girl's night with you and Cedes. Tonight okay? ~Rachel Barbra Berry  
_

The reply was nearly instantaneous.

_Always available for you. Come over, we're both already here._

Rachel let out a sigh of relief. Kurt and Mercedes would help. They were extremely dependable, if a little dramatic. It wasn't as if any of Rachel's friends _weren't_ the dramatic type, after all. They were in glee club. Well, maybe Matt and Mike were exceptions, but they couldn't be depended on for this kind of situation.

Rachel walked to her house first, getting her car to drive to Kurt's placw. She had planned to walk home after Quinn's anyway so she wasn't too put out. It was a reasonable distance and Rachel liked a good walk. But walking from Quinn's to Kurt's was absolutely out of the question. She'd look horrendous after such a trek.

Rachel pulled in front of Kurt's and ran up to the front door, knocking rapidly without stopping until Kurt opened the door and her knuckles nearly collided with his face. Kurt was clearly startled by the look on Rachel's face and he ushered her in with a worried 'tell us all about it, sweetie'. Finn, Kurt's stepbrother, was grabbing a sandwich in the kitchen and watched with confusion as Kurt herded Rachel into his room and slammed the door.

Mercedes was on the bed, flipping through a glamor magazine, but upon seeing Rachel's face she threw the magazine on the floor and held out her arms. Rachel let out a little huff and accepted the hug gratefully. "What's wrong, Rach? I haven't seen you this worked up in ages."

Mercedes, Rachel, and Kurt crowded at the head of the bed with Rachel nestled between them comfortably. Santana and Brittany were her best friends but sometimes Kurt and Mercedes were exactly who Rachel needed.

"I really blew it today. I was trying to make sure that Quinn and I became friends and it exploded in my face," Rachel said, using her hands to simulate an explosion for emphasis. Mercedes and Kurt exchanged looks.

"Um, _who_ , sweetie?" Kurt asked.

"Quinn, Quinn Fabray. She's in our grade," Rachel replied glumly. At that Kurt hopped up from his bed and started looking through his bookshelf. He pulled out last year's yearbook and returned to his spot.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Mercedes said slowly, wondering whom on earth her friend could be trying to befriend. There weren't a whole lot of people Mercedes and Kurt didn't collectively know. They were fairly well known to be the gossip hubs of the school.

Kurt found the page where last year's sophomores started and flipped to the Fs, putting his finger on the page and dragging it down until he found Fabray. He looked at the picture and blinked, startled. He had no idea who this girl was. And how was that possible? She was beautiful, with golden locks and a symmetrical, pretty face. She was a shoe-in for popular, but he didn't know her at all… And clearly, she'd been around for over a year so he couldn't claim transfer student. This was certainly a blow to his reputation.

Rachel looked down at the picture and her face fell. Because that wasn't at all the Quinn she knew, the Quinn she'd so nearly befriended. "She doesn't look like that anymore," Rachel said quietly, pushing the yearbook away. "She dresses more… punk. She dyed her hair, too. Pink."

Kurt and Mercedes both made the same noise of annoyance at once. "Rachel!" Kurt said, shaking his head. "Lead with the hair! There's literally only one girl in the whole school with pink hair! Not that I know her well or anything but I've seen her around. She's a Skank, right?" As he absorbed the question he'd just asked, Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other again, eyes wide. What was Rachel Berry doing trying to befriend a _Skank_?

"She is, but she's not really like them at all," Rachel said, her tone still coated in misery. "Well, she has an attitude. And she doesn't go to class. But she gets straight As, and she doesn't go around mugging kids, I don't think. She just… hangs out with them, is all."

"Well, that is a qualifier," Kurt said with a chuckle. Rachel shot him a glare.

"Hey, yeah I remember her better now!" Mercedes said, pulling the yearbook across Rachel's lap to peer at the picture. "I didn't really get a good look at her that day, but remember Kurt? I told you about the Skank who broke Phil Ritter's nose?"

"That's her?" Kurt exclaimed, leaning in for the dish. Rachel's brow furrowed. No, that didn't sound _at all_ like Quinn. Did it?

"Yeah, so check this Rach, like one month into the school year my grades stopped loading into the server, something about my student ID number or some bull. And my teachers tried to fix it but it was like, an administrative thing or whatever and no one high enough was doing anything to fix it, so I went to Figgins all ready to chew him out because I needed my grades in the damn system, you know? Anyway, I'm waiting for him to get done with his meeting, and he's yelling at this pink-haired chick, Quinn," Mercedes looked down at the picture as if to confirm, but her nose wrinkled in indecision. "Anyway, suddenly the office door like, SLAMS open, and fucking Ms. PILLSBURY comes storming in looking like she's about to murder someone."

Rachel couldn't believe her ears. "Ms. Pillsbury? Emma Pillsbury, the counselor? The one who has a crush on our Mr. Schuester?"

"That's the one! I didn't even know she could raise her voice, never mind look as mad as she did that day. She goes into Figgins' office and starts _screaming_ at him. Something about school policy and conduct and apparently Ritter was doing something _super_ shitty and that's why Quinn clocked him and broke his nose, and Ms. Pillsbury started talking about people _suing_ and all and Figgins wilted like a dead flower. Think she was gonna get suspended or even expelled but she ended up with, like, detention or something."

Rachel's eyes had gone wide as saucers. She had more questions now than ever. Was Quinn violent? But it sounded like Phil Ritter had been doing something awful, and Quinn had either stopped him or made sure he'd never do it again. And that wasn't bad, was it? Rachel supposed it depended on what Phil had been doing.

There was a knock on the door and after a moment the door opened and an anxious-looking Finn peered around the corner. "Hey," he said nervously, flinching under the glare Kurt sent his way. "I know closed door is supposed to be a clue for 'do not disturb', but Rachel looked upset. Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, Finn, thank you for your concern," Rachel said with a small smile. Finn let out a sigh, grinning with relief.

"Okay, good. I know we don't date anymore but Puck says I still have to make sure you're always alright or else he'll beat me up." Rachel laughed a little at this, and Finn brightened more, then he rubbed a hand through his hair and added quickly, "And of course, I care, too. I just also don't want to get beat up. Want a tea or something?"

"No, thank you for the offer though," Rachel said. When Mercedes cleared her throat and Kurt jerked his head, Finn took the cue and left.

"He's gotten a lot better since you dumped him," Kurt mused, giving Rachel a wily grin. "More considerate. I think you were a wake-up call."

"Well he can't go around calling people sad hookers when he's dating them and expect his girlfriend to stick around," Rachel said with a toss of her brown hair. "He's just a kid, and he can grow out of it. Hopefully."

Kurt and Mercedes both laughed.

.

Rachel decided that her best bet to find out the circumstances of the Great Nose Breaking Fiasco would be to ask Ms. Pillsbury herself. Ms. Pillsbury was a good counselor, really, and generally speaking she could keep secrets, but Rachel knew she was a bit more loose-lipped when it came to Mr. Schue and his Glee charges. If she asked on his behalf perhaps she'd be more likely to get an answer.

Rachel felt naked as she entered school, sporting an old middle school backpack with empty notebooks and anything she'd happened to leave at home the day before. Her backpack was still in Quinn Fabray's custody and she wasn't going to ruin things further by showing up at the Fabray residence uninvited to get it. She'd ask if she could swing by after school when she saw Quinn in Spanish. If Quinn said no… well, she'd ask politely if Quinn would bring it to school with her on Wednesday. Two nights without her backpack would be awful, but she'd bear it to avoid stepping on Quinn's toes. Courting Quinn was a delicate matter and Rachel could manage a few days without some textbooks. She could borrow from friends, as she had the previous night with Kurt.

Rachel was early so she could swing by Ms. Pillsbury's before her first period class. Wanting to know didn't technically have anything to do with befriending Quinn, but knowing would help Rachel figure out if she wanted to keep going or at the very least how to proceed. She still couldn't get her mind around the idea of Quinn being _violent_. It just didn't mesh with what she knew of Quinn. Now _defensive_ , that was a given. If Quinn had been defending herself- Rachel's stomach squirmed, remembering Miles Brody and his aggressive pursuit of Quinn. If anyone had laid a hand on Quinn, Rachel would destroy them.

Ms. Pillsbury was already in her office, typing something on her computer. She immediately stopped when Rachel entered and closed the door behind her. The teacher visibly brightened, sitting up straighter and saying enthusiastically, "Rachel! What a pleasant surprise!" She stopped herself from saying anything further and Rachel gave her a questioning look. Ms. Pillsbury seemed itching to say something.

"Good morning, Ms. Pillsbury! I actually have a question for you, in regards to a student named Quinn F-"

"How did yesterday go? Did you two have a good time?" Ms. Pillsbury interrupted as soon as Rachel started the name, vibrating with excitement. Rachel opened her mouth in surprise. How had the counselor known about that? Rachel hadn't told anyone except her fathers beforehand. And Quinn wasn't likely to have said anything about it- Unless…

"Did Quinn tell you?"

Ms. Pillsbury blushed as bright as her hair, nodding as she put her hands to her cheeks. "Oh gosh, I shouldn't have said anything. Quinn will be mortified that I told you I knew. I just wanted to know so badly, I can't be expected to wait to hear about it until club when you of all people show up in my office."

"Club?" Rachel questioned, slowly starting to understand how Ms. Pillsbury might possibly know Quinn.

"Celibacy club, it's every day after school. Quinn's the only member, so we do end up talking a bit," Ms. Pillsbury explained. "I was excited to hear that you two were starting to hang out. How was yesterday?"

Rachel smiled, still thrown by Ms. Pillsbury's interest in Quinn's social life but quietly happy that at least _someone_ else seemed to care what was going on in Quinn's day to day. It was strange that it was a counselor, but Quinn seemed so _lonely_ and Rachel would take what she could get.

"It was a bit rocky, but I'm sure everything will work out," Rachel replied vaguely. Ms. Pillsbury looked startled and seemed to want to question Rachel further but Rachel pressed on. "Actually, I wanted to ask you a question. About Quinn. If that's alright."

Ms. Pillsbury's smile faded, and she put her folded hands on the desk in front of her. "It depends on the question, Rachel. I'm a counselor, you know that includes a promise of privacy."

"I just- wanted to know about an incident at the beginning of the year… Quinn broke a boy's nose?"

Instantly Ms. Pillsbury bristled, sitting up straighter and saying forcefully, "That is no reason to not be Quinn's friend, Rachel, if that's what the trouble was last night. Quinn is an outstanding person. If you could just give her a chance, you'd see-"

"Oh no, please, you misunderstand me," Rachel hurried to say, putting up her hands in defense. "I think Quinn is brilliant, she's funny and smart- I just… I just wanted to know- I figured it was something that wasn't her fault, but I wanted to be sure so that I wouldn't go into this unaware."

Ms. Pillsbury relaxed a little but remained silent as she surveyed Rachel, lips pressed thin in thought. After a moment she said carefully, "I can't discuss the particulars of that case, Rachel. Not even with you. What I will say is this. Quinn Fabray is a courageous lion of a girl who defends people when she can and I am proud of her."

Rachel smiled, relieved. Quinn had been defending someone.

Defending someone against something that even peaceable Ms. Pillsbury didn't mind using _violence_ against… Now that was worrying.

If it had been something so awful, like a kid getting beat up, Quinn stepping in on their behalf was incredible. It made Rachel even more convinced that Quinn was worth the effort she was putting in.

"Thank you very much, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel said sincerely. The counselor gave her a nod, and Rachel left the office.

.

Rachel was putting out one of her emergency blank notebooks for Spanish when her backpack slammed down on her desk and she nearly jumped out of her shoes. She looked up to see Quinn glaring coldly down at her, muttering a curt, "This is yours," before starting to walk away.

"Wait, Quinn!" Rachel yelped, reaching out without thinking to grab Quinn's sleeve. Quinn yanked her arm out of the way before she could and her face contorted in anger. Rachel quickly shoved her hand back into her lap. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. And I'm sorry about last night."

Quinn looked around the classroom to see if anyone was listening. They were almost alone in the room, but there was a boy towards the front so Quinn stepped closer to Rachel and hissed, "Listen to me, Berry. Nothing happened and this entire relationship you've been desperately trying to forge didn't even happen as far as I'm concerned, so you need to _back off_. After this stupid project, don't talk to me again."

"Quinn," Rachel said softly, biting her lip nervously. "If that's what you really want… then I won't bother you again. But please, hear me out."

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"I understand what happened, I think. You thought I was coming on to you-" Rachel was interrupted by Quinn's angry scoff but Rachel kept going, "And that doesn't really surprise me, given what I said. But I wasn't. I just felt guilty about snooping around your room and tried to come up with something to say to seem less- less strange, and it achieved the exact opposite of what I wanted it to. I'm sorry. I don't believe that you're some easy Skank who would give it up to anybody, I don't even believe most of the boys at school who say they've slept with you _have_. I mean, I know a thing or two about rumors, not to mention that you, well, hate everyone." Rachel flinched, not at all sure that was the right thing to say until the corner of Quinn's lips tugged up briefly in a smirk. "I wasn't trying to _use_ you, Quinn. I wanted to be your friend, because I can see how cool you are and how much you meant to Santana and Brittany. I hoped we could all be friends. What I said was true. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met.. but you're a lot more than that."

Rachel took a deep breath, already flinching away from Quinn's rejection. It didn't come. Quinn just stared at her blankly. Rachel couldn't tell at all what Quinn was thinking and it was making her nervous. Quinn turned away with a shrug and Rachel's heart sank. Then over her shoulder, Quinn said, "Fine. Apology accepted. But you're wrong, I don't hate _everyone_." And without looking back at Rachel, Quinn went to her seat.

Rachel could have burst with happiness.


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn made her way to the bleachers after Spanish class, not really sure what she was doing with Rachel and feeling like a moron for accepting her apology. So, what, Berry made up something about not trying to sleep with her and she believed it like that? But what if Rachel really had meant it? What if Rachel was just an awkward dork who hadn't known what to say after Quinn found her pawing at an old picture of her? And Rachel had come up with- what- Quinn being _pretty_?

Then again, Quinn was probably one of the only people in the world who could take that as an insult.

She flopped down on her couch under the bleachers still debating her decision to give Rachel the benefit of the doubt. It took her a few minutes to even pull out her book of the week, she was thinking about it so hard.

"You look like shit."

When Quinn looked up at Mack her glare could have leveled a mountain. Mack just grinned and plopped down next to her on the couch. Quinn shifted away from Mack. This was new. The Skanks didn't really engage her in conversation and they certainly didn't initiate it. Mack was going off-script.

"Excuse me?"

"Nah, let me rephrase. You look like normal. But the past week or so you've been looking, like, happy."

Quinn shook her head. "I don't know what you mean."

Mack leaned back, throwing her arm over the back of the couch. "Come on, Quinn. I've known you for a year now. I could count on my hand the number of times I've seen you smile. But this past week? You've been practically chipper."

"No I haven't."

"Sure you have. I mean, obviously not by _normal_ people standards." Mack looked down and her normal cocky façade faded. "We've all got shit, Quinn, and you carry yours around like your blood is lead. I don't know what's up and I never asked because it's none of my business. But whatever was going on, for a little while it made your weight less."

Quinn swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat. She hadn't known the Skanks saw so much. Suddenly she was grateful for them. They just let her be, made her life a little more bearable at school. She hadn't known how much she appreciated them. Still, she didn't want to admit to anything. "Past few weeks have been normal."

"Uh huh. And Sheila seeing you get into your car with Rachel Berry yesterday?" Mack's eyes widened in triumph, her smirk growing as she dropped her bombshell.

"Fuck off!" Quinn grumbled, shoving Mack in the shoulder.

"Come on, for serious, Q. I was happy you were doing okay for once… and I hope you get that back." Mack was more serious again, putting a hand on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn didn't flinch away.

"Remember when we met," Mack said suddenly, leaning in a little. Quinn's eyes narrowed and Mack backed up again. "You were under here, this little blonde chick in a baby-doll dress, and the three of us found this place and decided it was ours. We tried to kick you out- and you gave us this look that was so goddamn scary we backed off. We thought we were letting you stay- but it was _you_ letting _us_ stay, wasn't it?"

A smile gradually inched its way across Quinn's face and she quirked an eyebrow playfully. "Maybe."

Mack laughed. She waggled her eyebrows. "And then that cold day I loaned you my leather jacket and you jizzed your pants so hard your hair turned pink."

Quinn punched her harder than was necessary but she smiled a little. In response Mack laughed and pushed Quinn's head away with the palm of her hand.

Mack put on a serious face again. "So whatever you've been up to lately, keep doing it. It's nice to actually see you back from the dead."

Quinn smiled at her book.

Pseudo friends were nice, as it turned out.

.

When Quinn arrived at celibacy club Ms. P was already there and clearly nervous because she was polishing all the windows in the classroom.

"Uh, Ms. P?" Quinn ventured warily, putting her backpack down. Ms. Pillsbury nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Oh, Quinn! I'm so sorry, I was- distracted," Ms. P fluttered back to their table, sitting down in her normal seat and smoothing her skirt over and over. Quinn sat down slowly, wanting to reach out and stop the counselor from rubbing her hands raw. She didn't, instead looking down at the table with her hands fisted in her lap. What was going on? Had Quinn done something? Was Ms. P angry at her? She wasn't about to ask, she didn't want her suspicions to be confirmed. God, if Ms. P cancelled _club_ -

"I owe you an apology, Quinn," Ms. Pillsbury said softly, causing Quinn to look back up in surprise. Ms. P's face was red with guilt.

"What for?" Quinn asked.

"This morning before classes Rachel Berry came into my office." Quinn's eyes widened and she had to stop herself from standing and running out of the classroom. There was no reason to, Quinn hadn't done anything to or _with_ Rachel. But she still felt paranoid, that somehow Ms. P knew something was wrong and somehow Rachel was the catalyst.

Ms. Pillsbury continued, "I'm afraid I got too excited and asked her how yesterday went." Quinn squirmed in her seat, biting the inside of her cheeks. Rachel had told Ms. Pillsbury she exploded? "I apologize deeply for letting Rachel know that you'd told me about your plans. I wanted to know what happened and I betrayed a trust."

Quinn couldn't believe it. That was what Ms. P felt bad about? Quinn grinned, leaning back in her seat and putting her feet up on the chair across from her. "It's not a big deal, Ms. P. Now all she knows is I'm friends with a teacher. That can't do much for my rep the way it is, can it?"

Ms. Pillsbury's face lit up with relief and she giggled. "No, I suppose that can't make your reputation worse."

Both of them started cracking up and it was a few minutes before they calmed down again. "So what did Berry want to talk to you about?" Quinn asked as soon as she could take a breath.

"Quinn!" Ms. P exclaimed, shaking her head in disapproval but unable to keep the amused smile off her face. "You know better than to ask me what someone has come to discuss with me in office hours!"

"Sorry, sorry! I just figured it couldn't have been that serious if you segued into our project work yesterday."

Ms. Pillsbury brought both her hands to her face and groaned. "I'm afraid I opened with that, I barely let her say anything beforehand. What a terrible counselor I am."

"You're a great counselor, Ms. P," Quinn said firmly. Ms. Pillsbury peeked out from between her fingers to see the fierce look on Quinn's face and she smiled behind her hands. There was no way Quinn would let Ms. Pillsbury think she was anything but magnificent. Quinn had never met a nicer, more sincere person in her entire life. All she wanted to do was help people. And, okay, maybe she wasn't a _perfect_ counselor. She still did everything in her power to care for the kids at McKinley High. Quinn would never let Ms. P think that meant any less than it did.

"Thank you, Quinn," Ms. Pillsbury said softly, gratitude making her face glow. " I suppose I can tell you because it wasn't about her. She was asking about you, actually."

"About me?" Quinn repeated. Unease settled in her gut again. _What could that mean?_ "I don't know what you could have told her. I'm not that interesting."

"I thoroughly reject that statement, Quinn, you are one of the most interesting people I know. She was asking specifically about the time you broke Phillip Ritter's nose."

Quinn's feet slammed into the ground as they fell off the opposite chair in her haste to sit upright. "What? How did she know about that?"

Ms. Pillsbury shrugged. "I knew you hadn't told her. I figured she heard it through the grapevine. I'm sure it wasn't exactly kept on the 'down low' when it happened. Of course I didn't tell her why it happened. It's an incident involving three students. Even if you had given me permission I couldn't do that to the other two involved."

Quinn couldn't wrap her head around what Ms. P was telling her. "And you talked to her about this before school?"

"She showed up at 7:45 on the dot," Ms. Pillsbury confirmed, tilting her head. "Why?"

"Because if she knew about me breaking a kid's nose before our Spanish class, then-" Quinn trailed off, glaring at the table. That didn't make any sense. If Rachel knew she was violent without knowing why she'd punched Ritter then why had she still wanted to be Quinn's friend? Rachel had no idea if Quinn's reaction had been justified. It had been, Ritter was a grade-A douchebag, but Rachel had no way of knowing he'd been attacking Mack in a hallway. Rachel was still pursuing friendship with a potential socio?

What was up with that girl…?

"Quinn? What were you about to say?"

"Just that she's weird."

Ms. Pillsbury chuckled. "She certainly marches to the beat of her own drum, that's for sure. She's lucky enough that the people around her have started to march along with her."

"She wouldn't have been so lucky if I'd ended up the popular one," Quinn said dryly.

"Oh? Do you think so?" Ms. P questioned. Quinn could see her putting her counselor hat on but Quinn didn't mind. It wasn't as if Ms. P would judge her about her one-week reign of terror and they'd discussed it briefly on other occasions.

"I kinda zeroed in on Rachel first week of freshman year, made her a target. Turns out she nearly ended up the loser of the school until I bailed on the Queen Bee position. If I'd ended up Coach Sylvester's protégé I'd have kept attacking her." Quinn tried to keep her voice neutral but she was starting to feel guilty about the way she'd treated Rachel at the beginning of school since the little troll had started following her around.

"Well can I be the first to say that I'm very glad you are not Sue Sylvester's protégé because I wouldn't even know what I'd be missing without you as a friend. And I suppose we'll never know what would have happened on that path. Either way I think that Rachel would have been unable to be anyone but herself, and she would have found a following no matter what."

Quinn laughed at this. "You know, Ms. P, you're probably right."

.

Rachel flew into glee club still basking in the success of her talk with Quinn. Most of the club was already there and when Kurt and Mercedes saw her they both started waving their arms to get her to come over. Rachel walked to them and was immediately hit with questions about what she'd found out about the nose-breaking Skank. Rachel felt bad that she didn't actually have much more information than they had. Her happiness wasn't about finding out about the mystery, it was about Quinn's forgiveness, but Kurt and Mercedes had no way of knowing this and had jumped to conclusions.

"So dish, girl, what happened?" Kurt asked, rising in his seat in his eagerness for a sweet piece of gossip.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I don't have much to offer. Quinn was defending someone apparently, but that's the only new information I gathered," Rachel replied with a helpless shrug.

Kurt and Mercedes both deflated. "Then what are you so dang chipper about?" Mercedes asked, looking her teammate up and down. It was clear to anyone who knew Rachel that she was coasting on some major happy waves.

"Quinn has forgiven me for my faux pas and I'm still allowed to pursue the friendship!" Rachel gushed, clasping her hands in front of her chest and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Allowed?" Kurt repeated. "What does that mean? This is sounding _really_ weird Rachel."

"If she don't want to be your friend why are you trying so hard with her?" Mercedes wondered and Kurt nodded by her side.

"Because Rachel can't let things _go_ ," a voice from behind them growled.

All three glee club members looked toward the door where Santana and Brittany were just entering. Rachel swallowed nervously, taking a step toward her friends. Santana raised a hand to stop her, clearly furious.

"No, Rach, this has gone too far. I don't know what you're getting out of this little show you've been putting on, but enough is enough. Quinn will never want to be your friend, or anyone's friend, and you trying so hard is just feeding into her ego. She isn't even _nice_ to you, why are you torturing yourself? To prove that you can do it?"

"San," Brittany began, but Santana just shook her head, looking down at the floor with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Not now, Britt. This has to be said."

"Santana, I think you're wrong," Rachel replied. "Quinn is really lonely, can't you see that? She just needs to be shown that people will put in the effort to be her friend, that they won't give up on her!"

"Like fuck!" Santana snarled, and everyone in glee turned their heads in alarm at the sheer anger in her voice. Rachel took a step back. She knew Santana, she had seen her mad, had seen her go on the attack, but she'd never seen her like this.

Brittany put a hand on Santana's shoulder and Santana looked at her girlfriend for a moment before taking a shaky breath to calm herself. When she looked back at Rachel her eyes glittered with angry tears.

"Quinn Fabray doesn't give a fuck about anybody and she doesn't want friends. What, do you think I just passively sat around when she decided to cut us out? Does that even _remotely_ sound like me? I spent _months_ chasing that girl around, and for what? Hundreds of ignored calls, ignored texts, hours spent trying to get her to answer the goddamn door of her creepy haunted mansion. There were fucking lights on and everything and she just ignored the doorbell like I was some Jehovah's Witness! I staked out her locker and she stopped using the damn thing. I just wanted to _talk_ to her! Figure out what was going on in that messed up head of hers. All I got was glimpses of blonde hair as she hightailed it around corners away from me and the porch light shut off when I mounted the stairs…"

Santana wiped her arm angrily across her eyes, glaring at anyone who dared show her a hint of sympathy. Brittany's face was long with sorrow and she wrapped her arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. Santana leaned into Brittany's embrace. She leveled a glare at Rachel again, her face hard. "So tell me again, Rachel, how lonely she is. Tell me how much she needs friends. Because we sure as hell aren't good enough for her."

There was a drawn out silence in the entire club as they tried to process the reality of seeing Santana's vulnerable side and it was finally cut when Brittany said softly, "I miss Quinn, I really do. But she was really mean and never replied to any of my letters. I even decorated them and everything. I don't know what we did wrong."

"We didn't do anything wrong," Santana said, giving Brittany a peck on the cheeks. "We did everything right and she still shat on us. So forgive me, Rachel, for not being entirely thrilled that you've decided to take up this one-man wild goose chase. You're gonna get hurt, _mi hermana_ , and I don't want that for you. Please, Rach, just _let it go_."

Rachel walked resolutely up to Santana and wrapped her in a big hug. Santana accepted the embrace, putting her arms around her little friend and giving her a squeeze. If anyone else from the club had tried it she'd have kicked them so hard they'd have seen stars, but from Rachel it was alright. Rachel was her sister, after all.

But Rachel could tell Santana knew that she wasn't going to let it go. When she leaned back she could see the resigned annoyance in Santana's eyes. Santana knew it just wasn't in Rachel's nature to quit.

Rachel finally let Santana go. She didn't say a word about stopping her crusade to be Quinn's friend, just took Santana's hand in her left and Brittany's in her right and walked them to their seats in the choir room.

Mr. Schuester chose that exact moment to come in. His office was directly connected to the glee club room so it was more than likely he had heard the yelling. If it had been Finn or Puck or even Rachel herself Mr. Schue might have come in to see what was the matter and try to help calm the situation down. Since it had been Santana Lopez and it was really better for everyone involved to just let Santana get it out of her system.

Rachel didn't speak up for most of Glee. She didn't stay entirely quiet because even deep in thought she simply couldn't, but Santana's tale of Quinn's rejection was a lot to take in. It was hard to understand. Rachel was sure she wouldn't unless she got the explanation from Quinn herself. Going from best friends to the type of ice-out that Santana had described took something drastic. Something must have happened.

Rachel had no idea what it could have been and clearly none of the three involved were going to say anything about it. Rachel had the sneaking suspicion that the answer to that question was the only way that any of this was going to get fixed. Maybe it had to do with why Quinn was the way she was. There was only one way to find out.

By the end of glee club Rachel, Santana, and Brittany were back to normal, laughing and chatting and heading over to Santana's for Mrs. Lopez's famous after-school snacks, but each of them knew that this was far from over. It was going to be one more day of sweeping everything under the rug.

.

That night Rachel got a text.

_Heard you were asking questions about me._

It was from an unknown number but Rachel instantly knew who it was. She'd given Quinn her cell weeks ago and Quinn had made a big show of crumpling the paper into a ball before throwing it in her bag so Rachel had assumed she'd eventually have to give the girl her number again. Apparently not. Without asking confirmation first she saved the number as "Quinn" in her contacts. Quickly she texted back.

**_This is Quinn, yes? I do apologize, I was curious. I should have asked you but with everything that happened I figured that I should make things right with us first. I just wanted to know. ~Rachel Barbra Berry_ **

Rachel waited anxiously for a reply, playing a game of Solitaire on her phone until she was alerted to a new text at the top of her screen.

_Ya okay Berry I get it. Wanted to know if your new obsession was a violent deviant, right?_

**_Well I didn't think you were but hearing about it did raise questions. ~Rachel Barbra Berry_ **

_Did you set your name to be at the end of all your text messages?_

**_I did. ~Rachel Barbra Berry_ **

_Rachel, you know your name shows up at the top of the screen for every text right? Jeez, I can't believe Santana hasn't totally laughed you into another dimension._

**_I'm not allowed to text her anymore. ~Rachel Barbra Berry_ **

_Turn it off, Berry, I'm begging ya._

**_Fine, give me a second. ~Rachel Barbra Berry_ **

**_There, is that better Quinn?_ **

_Much much._

**_Well I'm glad to have pleased you. Can I ask you about the incident then?_ **

_Mmm depends on what you wanna know._

**_Well the logical question is WHY did you break Phil Ritter's nose?_ **

_Because he's a jerk._

**_Ms. Pillsbury implied that you were defending someone. What was he doing?_ **

_Being a jerk._

**_Quinn that isn't an answer._ **

_Yes it is. That's what you're getting, Rach. You don't really want to know._

**_Of course I do! Quinn, he is still going to our school. If it's serious I want to know!_ **

There was a long pause between texts and Rachel was worried she'd scared Quinn off. She was about to apologize and tell Quinn to forget the whole thing when she got a text back.

_Just don't be alone with him Rachel._

**_That's ominous._ **

_Yeah_

**_Was he hurting someone?_ **

_Yeah_

**_What was he doing? To who?_ **

_Rachel, come on. It's shitty._

**_Tell me._ **

Another pause, but this time Rachel was sure that Quinn was going to reply. Finally:

_He was feeling up a girl in the hallway. She didn't invite him to, so I punched him._

Rachel couldn't believe what she was reading, yet it was what she had been dreading.

**_I don't blame you._ **

_You don't? Rachel Berry, are you condoning violence?_

**_Yes._ **

_... oh. kay._

**_He deserved what he got. I would have done the same in your position._ **

_Ya, he deserved it._

**_I'm glad you were there to help that girl, Quinn._ **

_k. see you tomorrow._

**_See you tomorrow, Quinn. Have a nice night._ **

Rachel didn't expect a reply, so she put her phone down. To her surprise a few moments later her phone buzzed. She picked it back up.

_You too._

Rachel smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Quinn lay in bed, arm across her forehead as she stared at her ceiling. She hadn't been expecting the response she'd gotten from Rachel. Rachel Berry condoning, no, _praising_ Quinn for punching Ritter. Ms. P cared about that kind of stuff but that was because she cared about people more than anyone else in the world. Other people didn't care about that kind of stuff. Rachel didn't even know the girl that Ritter had been going after. If Rachel knew it was Mack she would probably think Mack was asking for it… And if she knew about Quinn-

Quinn slapped both her cheeks sharply with her palms stopping that train of thought in its tracks. The point was, Rachel Berry was weird and Quinn couldn't quite figure her out. Sure, on the surface Rachel seemed pretty straightforward. But _no one_ was that earnest, no one was that animated and happy and vivacious. Rachel Berry could not be _real_.

Yet here they were weeks into their relationship, whatever it was, and Rachel hadn't given up trying to get Quinn to accept friendship. Quinn had barricaded her in every way she knew how, short of the extreme measures she'd gone to in getting Santana and Brittany to stop calling. And that- that had taken everything she had in her the first time around. She'd been the living dead for months after that, so depressed she almost gave up. Thought that life might not have been worth it if this was all it was going to be. Lonely and shameful and painful.

Celibacy club had come around in the nick of time. She'd thought that might be enough, her very own floating piece of wood in ice-cold waters.

Even so she had roboted her way through life for a little more than a year until the Skanks had trampled under the bleachers and into her life.

Rachel was trying to offer her more without knowing that Quinn Fabray _couldn't_ have more. That Quinn wasn't worth offering more. Rachel would eventually end this crusade with disappointment. That almost made Quinn sad. Ultimately it was Rachel's own fault, though, and maybe it would help in curbing that insane optimism the little diva had going for her.

And maybe it would be nice to have another foothold for a time. A year and a half was looking longer and longer as things at home got worse.

Quinn could be a little selfish, then, and let Rachel keep trying until she gave up. Rachel wasn't a bad option as distractions went. Sure she was grating and naïve and completely obnoxious, but she wasn't a bitch or a jerk or any of the other stereotypical popular archetypes. Rachel was amusing in her own way. Had already made Quinn smile more in two weeks than the Skanks had in a year.

Ms. P still held the record but Quinn wasn't about to hold her breath on Rachel breaking it anytime soon. Ms. P was special. She wasn't trapped in the maze of high school expectations and she was _Ms. P_.

Quinn grabbed her pillow from under her head and curled around it, burying her face into its softness. What a selfish decision, to let Rachel burn herself out over her. She really was the worst kind of person.

And clearly she didn't have enough willpower to change her mind.

.

Quinn walked into school the next morning with a clear head, having gotten some of the best sleep she'd had in ages despite the realization that she was a selfish fool. Her dad had been away so she was well rested and hadn't had to take an hour-long shower at any point. All good things.

So she was alert enough to hear a scuffle down what would have been a normally empty hallway at this time in the morning. She followed the noise to make sure one of her Skanks hadn't gotten into any early-morning trouble as unlikely as that seemed. She wasn't sure Ronnie, Sheila or Mack had ever gotten to school before the middle of first period.

When she peeked around the corner she saw two of the football jocks pinning Phil Ritter to a row of lockers. Quinn was pretty sure it was the quarterback Finn Hudson and a boy she thought might be named Puck, like a hockey puck. She stayed put, her mind whirring. Weren't Finn and Puck two of Rachel's Glee friends…? This couldn't be a coincidence after last night.

Oh no. She _hadn't_.

But as if hearing her question the boys started to speak.

"What is this? You said you wanted to talk to me about football tryouts next year, why are you hounding me?" Quinn heard Ritter first, his pitiful wail just loud enough to hear as he tried to keep his voice down.

"Because we heard that you got your nose broke earlier this year for assaulting a girl in a hallway!" The boy Puck growled, shoving Ritter again.

"That's not cool, man!" Finn added with a befuddled frown on his face, like he couldn't quite believe it happened. "You don't do that stuff."

"Yeah, Pinkie should have broke more than your nose," Puck yelled, getting more worked up. From her hiding place Quinn huffed in annoyance. Like breaking more than his nose wasn't a sure ticket to expulsion.

"What are you t-talking about, I don't know-"

"Don't be any more of a pussy than you already have been Ritter! You're a scumbag and if you lie to me one more time I'm going to re-break your nose." Puck cracked his knuckles as if to emphasize.

"Okay, okay!" Ritter held up his hands and tried to shrink lower to the ground, sliding down the lockers as he did. "I don't understand, why is this coming up now? She was just some Skank!"

"Just some-" Finn started in outraged disbelief. Before he could finish there was a muted ' _whuff'_ as Ritter doubled over in pain, Puck's fist in his gut.

"Don't you ever, ever think about hurting another girl at this school, got it?" Puck said into Ritter's ear and the pathetic Ritter nodded as he whimpered.

"Puck," Finn warned, looking around. He almost caught sight of Quinn but she ducked back around the corner as his head swung around.

"It's okay, I got this," Puck said. When Quinn looked back Puck was standing a few feet away again, the only sign of his ever having touched Ritter the way the other boy was still slightly doubled over.

Finn's brow furrowed in anger and he said, "Now, pretty much the first request the person who told us about this had was that we get you to leave the school. I don't think we can do that even if we are mad scary when there's more of us, so we figured something else out. You're banned."

"W-what?" Ritter choked out.

"You're banned. From everything. If we see you at a party, at a game that isn't one of your dumb hockey matches, at a table that isn't located within smelling distance of the trashcans, we're coming for you. Like, Fight Club style."

"I think you got that reference wrong, dude," Puck said, but he was otherwise nodding in agreement. "And Ritter, if you even look at a girl wrong I'm going to kick your nards in and you'll have no proof it was me and _no one_ will rat. Disclaimer, man. I've heard they're good."

"You can't do that! I don't _understand_ , why do you care what happens to some-"

"If you finish that thought I swear to Jewish Jesus that you're going to be missing all your teeth in the next few seconds," Puck growled, both his and Finn's eyes narrowed into slits. Ritter wisely clammed up.

Quinn heard the two boys storm off. She didn't wait for Ritter to move, stomping off herself in the direction of her first class.

Oh, she was going to _kill_ Rachel Berry.

.

Rachel was feeling quite proud of herself. She'd texted Finn and Puck early that morning telling them what she had learned. Finn had replied with misspelled questions but Puck had just said, "I got this" after reading Rachel's five and a half paragraph text about what she wanted him to do about Phillip Ritter. She had very nearly gone off to scream at Ritter herself before realizing that she was about two feet and one hundred pounds short of intimidating the disgusting boy. She'd considered texting Santana but had stopped herself because she hadn't wanted Santana to be charged with murder so young.

Puck and Finn were her next best enforcers. Quinn breaking Phillip's nose was all well and good but Rachel had a _social order_ to maintain. Phillip probably had not taken Quinn's vengeance as word of law and Rachel had to make sure that he did in fact know that what he had done was not only unacceptable in her reign, but abhorrent.

She hadn't planned on telling Quinn about what she'd done, but she was nevertheless bursting with pride as she waited to see Quinn in Spanish class. She would have to contain her excitement.

So Rachel was unprepared for a fuming Quinn to round the corner of the door, zero in on her, and march up to her with a livid snarl on her face. Rachel quailed in alarm. "Wh-what-?"

"Come with me," Quinn snapped, grabbing Rachel's arm and pulling her out of her seat.

"Quinn, class is about to start!"

"We aren't staying. Come. With me."

Rachel continued to protest even as she grabbed her bag before she left, passing a confused and attack-ready Santana and alarmed Brittany in the hall. Santana nearly launched herself at Quinn before Rachel shooed her off, giving a thumbs up and small wave as they disappeared from Santana's view.

They headed toward the bleachers, Rachel still mumbling protests as Quinn practically shoved her into sitting down on a raggedy couch. To the side the three other Skanks loitered, watching the scene play out with obvious surprise.

" _What_ did you do, Berry?" Quinn snapped, crossing her arms over her leather jacket.

Rachel looked around. Quinn obviously knew about Phillip Ritter, but how she knew and why she was so upset was lost on Rachel. She didn't see the point of claiming ignorance so she said, "I made sure that Phillip Ritter knew that his actions were not just frowned upon in _your_ neck of the woods."

"Ritter?" the thinnest of the three Skanks standing apart questioned loudly. Before Rachel knew what was happening the girl had marched over to Quinn and punched her hard in the shoulder. Quinn flinched but didn't seem surprised by the girl's reaction.

"Excuse me!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Shut up, twinkle toes," the girl said, holding her hand in Rachel's face but not looking at her. "Fabray, you _fuck_ , did you tell this chick about that? That's barely even _your_ business, let alone hers!"

"I didn't tell her specifics, Mack but I'm pretty sure she's not stupid, so this isn't really helping out with the anonymity thing!"

Mack glared at Quinn and Rachel's heart sank. "Were you the one who-" Mack's head whipped around and she raised her fist, clearly about to punch Rachel too. Quinn stepped in her way. "Look, totally hit me, that's justified, but Berry's just a naïve woolly-hearted kid in all this."

"I'm not a kid!" Rachel protested. The girls were having a stare-off and ignored her. From the side one of the other girls snorted.

Mack finally turned away and marched back over to the other girls, saying something quietly to them. They started to clear out until Quinn said, "Wait."

All three girls turned to glare at her but Quinn held their gaze. "I brought Berry hear to tell her some unkind truths about this school. She seems to think it's some bastion of hope and love but we know better, don't we girls?"

The two girls who Rachel hadn't been introduced to snickered. Mack stayed silent, still furious. Quinn smiled tightly, holding out both hands. "What, you don't want to pop her bubble?"

Mack exchanged looks with the girls, then all three returned. Suddenly Rachel was surrounded by Skanks. She quailed.

"Oh god, please don't hit my face."

"You little bitch," Mack snarled.

Quinn held up a hand to ward her off. "Rachel, shut the hell up. I can't make them lay off forever, and your mouth is gonna keep picking away at their patience."

Rachel snapped her mouth shut, sucking in her lips and biting down.

"Berry, this is The Mack, Sheila and Ronnie," Quinn said, gesturing first to Mack, and then to the black girl and finally the other heavyset girl. "Bet you didn't know their names. Too lowly, right?"

"Quinn, that's not at all fair," Rachel started to exclaim but the four girls started laughing at her anger.

"Ah, shut it, midget," Shelia said, still laughing. "Like we care if you know our names."

"Do we look like we wanna know _you_?" Ronnie asked, grinning wickedly.

Rachel closed her mouth again.

"Guess what Berry decided would be a good idea, girls," Quinn said, anger creeping back into her voice. "She decided to sic two of her lap dogs on Ritter to tell him what he did wasn't 'kosher'. Because that's her job, get it?"

"The fuck, Fabray!" Ronnie exclaimed, suddenly looking worried. She looked between all the girls. "Anybody seen Rigby?"

"We'll go look for him, promise," Quinn assured her mildly distressed friend. "We'll make Berry come with us."

"Who's-" Rachel began, but she was ignored.

"You're unbelievable," Mack said, her brow creased with anger. "No wonder we get so much shit."

"I don't understand!" Rachel said, pounding her fists on the couch and causing a cloud of dust to rise.

"Berry, think. Do you actually believe that bullies cease to exist when they're told they can't pick on a certain group of people?" Quinn demanded.

"We don't have bullies, not like you're implying, I made sure-"

"Are you positive I can't sock the bitch, Q?" Sheila snapped as she hit her right fist against her left palm.

"Positive. She's just dumb, that's all."

"I'm NOT-"

"Be quiet and _listen_ , for once in your life," Quinn said. Her tone was more tired now and Rachel started to feel anxious.

"Look, I'm not saying your little crusade isn't admirable or whatever, but you forget about people who have nothing to do with you. Bullies can't spread their animosity around, and-"

"We get shit on," Mack finished.

"No, that can't be right, we _watch_ for bullies!"

Quinn rubbed a hand over face and turned to her friends. "Come on, let's go look for Rigby."

All four girls started to leave and when they noticed Rachel wasn't following Quinn grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. As they walked Quinn spoke in a low monotone. "You _don't_ watch after you've gone on your crusade and when you do shit to people, like pinning Ritter against a wall and telling him he isn't invited to your tea parties, he goes out and takes it out on us."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "What do you mean by that?"

The girls circled the school and found themselves by the dumpsters behind the cafeteria. There were bricks piled on top of one of them and the Skanks rushed over and began to clear them. Rachel hung back, confused.

When the Skanks could finally lift the lid, all the remaining bricks sliding off the back and clattering to the concrete ground, Ronnie pushed the other girls aside and reached in. She pulled out a scrawny, bespectacled boy who must have been a freshman. Ronnie wrapped the boy up in a tight embrace, petting his head. The boy had a black eye and welts on his bare arms from where it looked like someone had twisted the skin hard enough to burn it. Rachel felt like being sick.

"That's Rigby," Quinn supplied, shrugging a shoulder. "He's Ronnie's- eh, friend? Who knows. Ronnie loves the kid. She's practically adopted him, though you won't catch her telling that to anyone. He's a geek and he'd probably be one of yours, but of course he can't _sing,_ and he doesn't have any friends to speak of. There goes that protection."

"We have to do something, tell someone!" Rachel exclaimed.

All four Skanks looked at her and yelled at varying levels, "No!" Rigby looked at Rachel like she was crazy.

"What?! Why not!"

"Because it'll only get worse!" Sheila growled, as if it was entirely too obvious.

Rachel shook her head. "But it won't get _better_ if you don't ask for help!"

"Like anyone wants to give any of _us_ help," Mack said bitterly. Slowly, Quinn nodded in agreement.

"No, you can't think like that," Rachel said, clutching her hands in front of her. "People want to help! They really do. I'm sorry I didn't notice, I'm sorry that people haven't noticed what's been happening to you all. That's not fair, and it's not right. I wish I'd noticed instead of having to be told, really and truly, but nobody is perfect. Even if by all rights someone _should_ have noticed and helped you, sometimes people just fail. So you have to ask! I know that you shouldn't have to beg for people to figure out that you're hurting… but please, sometimes we just don't know."

The four Skanks just stared at her silently. Finally little Rigby spoke up, "Who are we supposed to tell?"

"Well, who do you normally tell?" Rachel asked. Rigby, Ronnie and Sheila looked at one another and then shook their heads. Mack crossed her arms and glowered at the ground and Quinn seemed frozen in place.

"Okay… well what do you normally do?" Rachel asked somberly.

"Hide," Rigby said.

"Beat up the littler Cheerios," Sheila said. Ronnie nodded in agreement.

"Don't be where you shouldn't," Mack supplied in a low mumble Rachel barely caught.

"… keep your head down," Quinn said softly.

"Has any of that worked? Has any of it ever worked, truly, for any good amount of time?" Rachel asked, tears growing in her eyes. She was surprised at how concerned she was for these people who she never thought she'd spare a moment for, but especially, _especially_ for pale, quiet Quinn.

None of them said anything.

"Please, I know it's hard. Trust me, I _know_. But you have to ask for help. You just _have to_. Or nothing will change! And as for who… Well, how about Ms. Pillsbury?"

"That ginger fluffhead?" Mack asked in disbelief.

"Back off," Quinn snapped. Mack shrugged, clearly still unhappy.

"Will she help?" Rigby asked, pushing away slightly from Ronnie.

"She'll do everything she can. If she has trouble with getting the help you need, tell your parents!" Rachel replied.

Rigby deflated slightly, kicking the ground. "My dad thinks I should handle it on my own."

Rachel felt like she'd been punched. His dad wouldn't help? She cast glances at all the Skanks, all of whom seemed unwilling to meet her eyes. Did all of them- didn't any of them have supportive parents? Rachel's eyes rested on Quinn, who was biting at the side of her thumb.

"Well, well-" Rachel faltered, unsure of what to say. She couldn't imagine it, having parents who wouldn't help… and if Ms. Pillsbury, the member of staff who was supposed to help with these things couldn't, then-

"Then come to me," a sharp voice behind them said.

All six kids whirled around. Sue Sylvester stood with her hands on her hips. "Excuse the interruption, I noticed my little Twinkles lurking next to a dumpster and had to come investigate."

"You don't care about us," Mack objected.

"No, not really," Sue said with a shrug, stepping forward. "And heck, I think a little bullying builds character. But this?" Sue took one of Rigby's arms in her hand and he winced in discomfort. Sue frowned. "This is despicable. Cowardly. I don't hold with cowards."

Rachel could have hugged Coach Sylvester, she was so glad to see her and so grateful for her words.

"Berry, front and center," Sue snapped. Rachel jumped to attention. Sue put both hands on Rigby's shoulders and he looked distinctly uncomfortable, but she didn't seem to notice. "Am I to understand that this morning you ordered a hit and you did not deign it necessary to tell me the conditions that spurred this decision?"

"I- how did you know about that?"

"Your little warblers are extremely bad at keeping secrets. Porcelain and Aretha were talking about it in front of my office. I asked Lopez, but she seemed not to know what I was talking about, so I called Hummel and Jones into my office for a bit of an interrogation. Apparently word got around your club that a boy hurt a girl in the hallway and you got Lurch and the Manwhore to take care of him."

Rachel swallowed, not looking at Mack or Quinn, but nodded mutely. Sue narrowed her eyes. "I'm disappointed in you, Berry. _More_ disappointed in that moron Figgins, but disappointed in you nonetheless. You should have come straight to me and told me what you learned. I'd have gotten the kid expelled or at the very least punished further than he was. Instead you tried to impose student justice on a very serious matter."

"I'm sorry, Coach Sylvester," Rachel said quietly, eyes downcast.

"As you should be," Sue said with a nod. She turned to look at Quinn. "And _you_."

Quinn hesitantly stepped forward. Sue leveled a glare. "You punched a boy, who don't get me wrong thoroughly deserved it, but when you found out nothing much was going to be done to punish him you didn't come _straight to me_?"

"I- I didn't really think we were on those kinds of terms, Coach," Quinn softly replied.

"Bull roar!" Sue said, actually looking mad. "These are the exact terms we are on, Fabray. I may not like you sniveling excuses for human beings but I'll be damned if any of you get hurt like _that_ when I'm around. Don't you _dare_ think of not telling me again!"

Quinn was quiet for an extended period of time and Rachel looked at her questioningly until finally Quinn said with voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Coach."

Sue stared long and hard at Quinn. At last she gave a curt nod and started steering Rigby towards her office. "Get lost, all of you. I'll be taking care of this little gentleman from here on, so go back to skulking in the shadows."

Sylvester and Rigby disappeared back into the building, leaving the five girls standing around by the dumpster. Sheila and Ronnie exchanged a look, then turned to Rachel. "So Ms. Pillsbury, huh?" Mack didn't say anything, but she took a step back towards the three of them.

It took Rachel a minute to notice that Quinn had disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of sexual abuse. I will indicate where with a "..." as a paragraph break

Quinn fled like a fox with hounds on her heels.

Why had Coach Sylvester come out like that? What had she been talking about? God, it felt just like freshman year, the coach's eyes boring into her soul. Fuck her, and fuck Rachel that nosy busybody. All that girl's fake concern, fake righteous rage, it was going to screw Quinn over in the end. What had she been thinking, letting her get even a fraction of the amount close that she had? She hadn't realized Berry was fucking mental.

Quinn liked Mack but it had been _her_ fault for not fighting back, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, for being a girl. It was _Quinn's_ fault the same way, with all that happened at home. Rachel should know that it was _because_ of them and getting angry about it in the way that she had just didn't make any sense. It was an overreaction. A punch to the nose to get Ritter to back off was what had needed to happen in the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

Quinn found herself standing in front of Ms. Pillsbury's office, a place she had never set foot in even if she had lurked outside of it a few times waiting on her favorite teacher to come out. She wrung her hands, looking up and down the hallway to see if anyone was there. Class was still in session. Quinn ducked inside Ms. P's office.

Ms. Pillsbury looked up and her deer eyes widened at the site of Quinn. "Quinn! Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Quinn shrugged one shoulder, eyes flicking towards the huge floor length windows. Without needing to be asked Ms. P stood and rounded her desk, pulling the blinds on the windows in her office. "Quinn, what's up?"

"Nothing," Quinn breathed, biting at the side of her thumb again. "Just wanted-" Quinn stopped, shaking her head.

Ms. Pillsbury nodded, gesturing towards the seat in front of her desk. "Feel free to sit down, we can just hang out here."

Quinn closed her eyes. She knew that Ms. P was trying to shrink her, trying to get her to open up. Quinn wouldn't, she _couldn't_ , but still she found herself sitting down, putting her elbows on her knees and chewing at the skin on the side of her thumb until she tasted blood.

"Oh my goodness, Quinn!" Suddenly Ms. P was kneeling in front of her, pulling her hand away from her mouth. She cradled Quinn's hand in her own, her face taut with distress at the blood threatening to fall from Quinn's wound onto her skin. But still Ms. P held on, keeping Quinn's hand away from further injury as if she could stomach it for Quinn's sake. Quinn wanted to protest the very notion at the top of her lungs. Quinn tried to tug away but Ms. P held on. She was stronger than Quinn had thought. "Stop that, right now. You're hurting yourself."

"It's okay, Ms. P. You don't have to worry. I wasn't doing it on purpose," Quinn whispered, curling her thumb a few times. It didn't hurt. Or maybe it did but Quinn couldn't feel it. Her mind was too busy with other things.

"It doesn't make me worry less to know that you didn't notice you were biting yourself hard enough to break the skin," Ms. Pillsbury replied, doe eyes swimming with worry.

Quinn shrugged again, letting out a dry laugh. "Distracted, I guess."

"Can I ask by what?"

Quinn almost cracked an English joke as if she was a teacher correcting Ms. Pillsbury's grammar. _You_ _ **can**_ _ask_. But Quinn kept her mouth shut, pursing her lips and looking down at her thumb until Ms. Pillsbury sighed, letting go of Quinn's hand only long enough to go to the other side of her desk and get her disinfectant spray for cuts and a box of Band-Aids. Quinn watched with a sort of amused interest as Ms. P carefully sprayed and wiped the injury clean then took out a bandage and wrapped it around her finger. The last person besides herself to do something like that was-

_Santana, 7_ _th_ _grade. That fight they had gotten into with the boy who'd called Brittany stupid. Basically uninjured, one of the boys had got in a lucky shot and split Quinn's eyebrow. Santana always had Band-Aids._

All these people wasting time on Quinn, when all she wanted was to keep her head down and survive until college. Why did this keep happening? She'd never asked for any of it and most people took the hint. Even Santana had only been intended as a friend to defy her dad, she hadn't meant for things to get so-

Friends complicated things.

But, as it turned out, even Quinn Fabray couldn't live on the fumes of human contact alone. She wanted the connections she couldn't have, she wanted the love she didn't deserve.

Quinn felt the base of her throat grow stiff with contained sobs. She stood abruptly and yanked her hand out of Ms. Pillsbury's hold. No, no _way_ was she crying. Not in front of Ms. P. Ms. Pillsbury would start asking her all sorts of questions, feeling obligated to do her job and fix what was wrong.

Or worse, Ms. P would ask because she actually _cared_.

Quinn jerked towards the door. Suddenly she could barely see through tears and the sobs she'd been holding back ripped from her throat even as she wrapped fingers around her neck to contain them, trying to strangle them back into submission. Ms. Pillsbury fluttered into view, a blur of red hair in a murky world. Another sob escaped her mouth and before she knew what was happening Ms. Pillsbury had moved Quinn's hands from her throat and wrapped her arms around the girl, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ear and rubbing her hands up and down Quinn's back. Quinn's fingers curled into claws at Ms. Pillsbury's side, ready to rip the counselor away, but as she reached towards Ms. P they softened on their own and wove around the woman's back as Quinn sagged into her. Without meaning to Quinn let go of her hold on herself, inhuman noises hiccuping from her mouth and tears streaming down her face.

Why was this happening? What had Rachel torn out of her _now_?

Ms. Pillsbury just hugged her, let her cry herself out. After Quinn was done she asked one more time if Quinn wanted to talk. When Quinn shook her head no, Ms. P nodded and pulled out their PB&J sandwich early, offering Quinn her half.

.

Rachel didn't see Quinn for the rest of the day. This was not really a surprise since after Spanish she rarely saw the girl but it was still disconcerting. Quinn had left in such a hurry after an intense situation without saying goodbye. She had clearly been upset by the whole thing. While Rachel empathized she also knew that it was a _good_ thing to tell the Skanks asking for help was important. Ronnie and Sheila had even seemed interested in the possibility of getting the help they needed.

It was a relief that her words had been heard by someone but was disappointing and not just a little worrying that _Quinn_ hadn't heard them. Rachel couldn't banish the guilt she felt, that she hadn't noticed bullies still ran rampant through McKinley High. That the bullies were even worse than she'd imagined possible. Physical assault? _Sexual_ assault? How many more girls like Mack were there? How could the administration know and not do _anything_?

The worst part of it all was that Ms. Sylvester was right. Rachel had tried to get other students to punish Phillip as if student justice was enough. It absolutely was not, these assaults were too serious a matter to try and contain it through high school politics. The faculty _had_ failed them, but there were other resources. If Rachel had thought it important enough she'd have told her parents. If she'd been able to get corroboration she _could_ have gotten the police involved. Rachel had thought herself powerful enough to stop the abuse and her arrogance could have been disastrous.

Rachel started to walk into glee club. Before she could take one step in a very angry Santana pushed her back into the hallway and nearly pinned her against the lockers.

"What's this shit about Fabray, someone hurt her?" Santana snapped, worry bleeding through the anger. Through Rachel's surprise she felt a small amount of vindication at the proof that Santana still cared.

"Not her, Santana, don't worry. Quinn was defending one of her friends." Santana practically recoiled at the use of 'Quinn' and 'friends' in the same sentence, so Rachel quickly amended, "You know, one of the Skanks. Quinn's a member, but it seems like more of a school thing."

"Quinn isn't a Skank," Santana said with a roll of her eyes. "She's too priss to ever be a real Skank. Girl can dye her hair and smell like an ashtray, she's still an ice queen."

"Well, I don't know about priss but Quinn is definitely not a Skank, not really. She's… Quinn."

"She's Quinn," Santana repeated, sagging a little. "So she was defending someone, huh? I taught her how to do that. Not that Fabray ever got into fights on the regular, too prim and proper, but she joined me in a couple."

"Did she really?" Rachel asked with a laugh, drinking in anything she could learn about the friendship between Quinn, San, and Britt.

"Yeah, both times some douchenozzle insulted Britt, so she jumped in."

"Oh, and you don't know about the time someone called you a bad word and Q kicked them in the balls," Brittany supplied as she popped up behind Santana.

"She what?" Santana squawked, spinning on her heel to face her girlfriend.

Brittany deflated slightly. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that, she made me pinky swear."

Santana's brow creased, confusion painting her face. Brittany rocked forward on her toes, her hands held behind her back as she teetered. "It was in eighth grade, Q and I were waiting out in the courtyard for you to get out of detention, and we heard a boy insulting you, he called you a wetback. I didn't really get it, but Quinn got so mad. She started screaming at him, _real_ Quinn screaming, and she kicked him hard."

Santana was shaking her head but her eyes were glistening. "You can't be serious."

"Yeah, it was really scary. And super hot," Brittany confirmed.

"I can't believe this, I can't believe I didn't know this. Why did she want to hide this from me?!" Santana exploded, walking away from Rachel and Brittany and swearing long and loud in Spanish. Rachel and Brittany let her cool down, which took a good five minutes. Mr. Schuester walked out into the hallway, saw what was happening, and closed the door to the choir room.

Santana eventually wandered back. She hadn't cried but her eyes were red rimmed with the threat of tears and she looked miserable. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana and put her chin on her girlfriend's shoulder.

Rachel put her hand on Santana's arm. "She didn't want you to know."

"Obviously she didn't want me to know!" Santana said, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice.

"No, San. What I mean is, she didn't want you to know how much she _loved_ you."

Santana's mask cracked and she hid her face against her girlfriend's shoulder. Muffled by a thick throat and her girlfriend's shirt, Santana groaned, "This is so stupid! I never wanted to stop being her fucking friend. Did she even want to stop being mine?"

Rachel shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Santana, but… well, I mean, maybe you can ask her?"

Santana snarled deep in her throat, peeking out from her girlfriend's embrace to cast a scathing look at Rachel. "I tried to ask her and she ran away from me every chance."

"That was two years ago. Surely there's enough distance from it for you two to have a civil conversation. You're talking in Spanish class after all. She can't run from you there."

The thing about Santana, Rachel had found, was that she put up a strong front. However with those that she loved and trusted she was extremely vulnerable to hurt. If someone she cared for betrayed her it cut deep. Santana was a stubborn person, the most stubborn person Rachel had ever met besides herself (and now Quinn was vying for a position there). Santana was rarely, if ever, the one to take the first step towards a resolution. This was fine for Rachel because she was always willing to take first steps. Quinn, on the other hand…

Santana and Brittany peeled apart, Santana looking much better if still frustrated, and the three of them finally went into glee.

Halfway through club, Mr. Schue looked down at his phone and frowned.

At the end of club he stopped Rachel. Santana and Brittany lingered to wait.

"Rachel, Ms. Pillsbury asked me to request you meet her in her office after glee club. Are you in trouble?"

Rachel shrank a little. Had Quinn told Ms. Pillsbury about her mistake? Ms. Pillsbury had supplied some information on what the fight had been about, was she going to be angry that Rachel had taken it further and betrayed trust?

"Is this about Quinn?" Santana demanded, suddenly at Rachel's shoulder.

"I- I don't know," Rachel replied. She thought it might be but couldn't say definitively.

"I'm coming with," Santana announced and before Rachel could protest Santana and Brittany were leaving the choir room and heading toward the counselor's office. Rachel jogged to keep up, getting in front of them so that she'd be the first to enter Ms. Pillsbury's office and be able to announce the coming storm.

Needless to say, Ms. Pillsbury was unprepared for the three New Directions girls invading her office. She knew Santana only by reputation (and what a reputation it was) and glee club competitions. She'd never had a conversation with the girl. As for Brittany Pierce… Emma only knew her as the ditzy type. Popular, bubbly, blonde.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Pillsbury, I know you only asked for me but my friends insisted-"

"What's going on with Fabray?" Santana demanded.

Ms. Pillsbury was generally perceived by the student body as weak, but in that moment they were proved wrong as she straightened her back and said fiercely, "Santana, you forced your way into this conversation and you may find it surprising to know that I can change that very easily and not include you in any way. I asked for Rachel and had no intention of speaking to you on this, as it's not your business."

"I'm sorry San is roaring, she does it when she's scared. Is it about Quinn?" Brittany asked nervously, biting her lip.

Ms. Pillsbury looked from girl to girl, then she started slowly, "Rachel…"

"I sincerely apologize, but I assure you if it is about Quinn Fabray, everyone in this room cares about her deeply. Including you, I suspect."

Emma Pillsbury sighed, running her hand across her face. "This is not at all how I wanted this to go. But I'm too worried about Quinn to put this off. Rachel, you've been hanging out with Quinn recently? You've become her friend?"

"Yes," Rachel replied uncertainly, unsure of where this was headed.

"Did you talk to her today?"

"Yes, earlier. But I haven't seen her since Spanish period."

"Did she- did you upset her in any way, or did she seem upset?"

Rachel bristled slightly. "We had an intense conversation and truthfully she did seem upset. What I said was that she needed to tell someone if something was wrong, when she was being bullied, or it would never get better."

"I see…" Ms. Pillsbury tented her fingers and pressed them to her lips in thought. After a pause, she said, "I completely agree with you, Rachel. And I'd like to ask a favor."

"What?"

"Keep at it. Don't let her push you away." Ms. Pillsbury's eyes were more serious than Rachel had ever seen them. "You're pushing buttons that I think need to be pushed. Quinn works very hard to push people away from her and she's seeming more and more… lost. It's heartbreaking. I _refuse_ to let her get lost. But I can only do so much, you understand. I'm not her peer the way that you are and I can't provide what you can because of our limits and boundaries. You don't have those limits."

"Did something happen?" Rachel asked quietly, fearing the answer.

Ms. Pillsbury paused again, seeming to consider. "Not anything like you're thinking. If it was anything I could- You have to understand, a lot of this is based on a _feeling_ that something isn't right."

"I know that feeling, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel said softly, worrying her lip.

"…something's always been off with Q, I just didn't really know what to do about it," Santana said with a self-conscious shrug. "She isn't exactly the share-y type, you know?"

Rachel found the information that something had always been off with Quinn more than a little upsetting. On the one hand, she wished Santana or Brittany had figured out what it was. But Rachel knew it wasn't their fault that they hadn't. They had been middle-schoolers then. Not chasing down answers didn't mean they hadn't _cared_ , it meant they were young. "I'm sure you did your best by her," Rachel soothed. The scowl on Santana's face, directed at no one in particular, didn't fade.

"I didn't know you knew Quinn," Ms. Pillsbury ventured delicately.

When Santana didn't offer answers, Brittany replied, "We were best friends with her before high school. San's mom called us the Unholy Trinity, we were so close."

"Best friends?" Ms. Pillsbury seemed shocked at the very idea. "I didn't know- Quinn never said. Why did you stop being her friend?"

Santana stiffened, eyes flashing dangerously, but she didn't explode into a tirade again. Rachel answered instead. "Quinn stopped talking to them both at the beginning of high school. She didn't give a reason, it was unexpected."

"I see," Ms. Pillsbury said, surveying the girls who had been Quinn's best friends with critical eyes. Rachel wondered if Ms. Pillsbury was questioning if she could place blame on them for what had happened. Rachel hoped she wouldn't. Ms. Pillsbury had always seemed fair.

The redheaded woman stood. "So will you- will all three of you do it? Keep an eye on her, push the buttons that need to be pushed? I'm hoping you will be able to read her signals."

Rachel had been planning to do just that anyway, so she bounced with the thought of it also being a mission from a _teacher_. She looked at her best friends to see their answers. Brittany was watching her girlfriend intently. Rachel was pretty sure that either way Santana decided, Britt would still say yes, but Britt also cared about San's state-of-mind. Santana was glaring off into the distance. When she realized all three other occupants of the room were staring at her, she snapped, "Duh! Quinn may be a stone cold bitch, but she's _my_ stone cold bitch. Forever and always."

Brittany squealed and flung her arms around Santana. Rachel beamed, then turned and gave Ms. Pillsbury a sharp nod. "We would absolutely love to, Ms. Pillsbury."

Blinded slightly by Rachel's brilliant show smile, Ms. P only smiled back.

...

Quinn's day hadn't gotten any better. Because her father had been gone for the night, he came home without having to go to work and he was at the house when Quinn got there. He'd wanted a welcome home. Quinn had decided to get it over sooner rather than later and got down on her knees with her backpack still on.

She'd spent ten minutes after rinsing and re-rinsing her mouth out, Listerine and water alternating. It was humiliating, completely degrading, but it was one of the quicker ways to get her dad off her back. She tried to ignore the tears that pricked her eyes as she rinsed, choosing to blame it on the intense mint of her mouthwash.

She was not about to cry a second time today.

She went to her room and closed the door, knowing it was ineffectual against keeping her dad out of her room but still a small amount of comfort. Almost as soon as Quinn sat down there was a buzzing from her phone. Quinn flinched, debating whether to answer. Only one person texted her and she wasn't really feeling up to dealing with Rachel anymore today. Then the phone buzzed again and Quinn groaned and unlocked her phone.

**_Quinn I am very sorry to have upset you today but I feel that what I said was true._ **

**_I just wanted to make sure that you weren't terribly mad at me,and let you know that I've scheduled with Santana and Brittany to use tomorrow's study hall for our project.  
_ **

Quinn felt anxiety fill her gut at the thought of having to spend a whole extra period with Santana and Brittany but she and Rachel hadn't gotten much work done on the project on Monday. This would make up for that, hopefully. Quinn wasn't about to get anything short of an A.

_I'm not mad, it was unexpected that's all. Study hall sounds good._

The response was instantaneous.

**_Oh good, I'm glad to hear it! I have some notes that I thought we could go over with S and B, we already got a bit of work done on Monday._ **

Quinn felt a tug of guilt at the reminder she'd thrown Rachel out because of her own paranoia. Sure, it was fairly probable that Rachel did in fact want to sleep with her because of her reputation and the curse of her looks, but Rachel also seemed… not quite as beastly as others tended to be.

And hey, maybe her attitude and punk look was keeping Rachel at bay as intended.

_Cool. I'll be there._

**_Wanna meet at your locker? Which is it?_ **

Quinn raised an eyebrow, not really sure why they couldn't just meet at the library.

_I don't really use my locker._

**_Oh, alright, well my locker number is 443, meet there?_ **

_Sure. See you tomorrow._

Quinn turned off her phone before she could get any more texts, thoroughly done with human interaction for as long as she could put it off.


	8. Chapter 8

The thing of it was, Quinn knew about abuse. She'd had to sit through health classes, she'd seen after-school-specials on television. She wasn't _unaware,_ like a little kid who thought this was just normal daddy-daughter interaction. Maybe when she was 8 it hadn't been the first thing to come to mind. But at sixteen, Quinn Fabray knew what child abuse was. She even knew that there was probably some brainwashing in there somewhere, to a degree, but she wasn't sure what was true and what was false, and stripping down _everything that she knew_ seemed like a useless endeavor. It was just far too _late_ for Quinn. She was already tainted and nothing she did would fix it. Trying to get out of the situation would only make everything worse. Her dad was a pillar of the community, he'd get her back in seconds, and that would threaten her college fund, her _chance_ at a future.

Once she'd even been watching some show on television where a kid was being abused and she'd frozen up on the couch. She'd looked over at her dad, who was reading the paper, and he hadn't even flinched. Quinn had watched her dad for practically the rest of the episode instead of watching the tv. Not a peep. Sure, he didn't hit her, but- and her younger self had eventually switched off the television and gone up to her room.

That night had been the same as all the rest.

Quinn hadn't told anyone to begin with because it had just been her life, then it had been because of shame.

Eventually it had just been too late to do anything and it made more sense to just bear it until college, get her tuition and graduate with top grades, and then never see her father ever again.

.

Quinn was still uncertain why Rachel wanted Quinn to meet her at her locker but she'd agreed to do it. She hadn't agreed to be right on time though, so she was walking the near-empty halls toward Rachel's locker a few minutes into the period. She saw Miles Brody down the hall and flipped him off before rounding the corner and freezing in surprise.

Rachel Berry stood waiting, Santana and Brittany in tow. Rachel was looking down at her phone every few seconds. Next to her Santana was inwardly fuming. Quinn could practically see the steam rising off her. The only one who seemed unbothered was Brittany, who beamed when she noticed Quinn's approach and moved in to give Quinn a quick hug.

"Way to keep us waiting," Santana snapped, but there was less fire behind it that Quinn would normally expect and she raised an eyebrow in reply.

"What are you all doing here?"

"Waiting for you!" Rachel said, sidling up to Quinn and linking her arms with hers. Quinn immediately disentangled.

"Too strong, Rach," Santana said with a snort, elbowing Rachel lightly in the ribs. To Quinn she said, "We thought you'd show up sooner than you did, so we could all head over to the library together."

"But… why?" Quinn asked warily. She looked around. Was this some kind of trick?

"Because we wanted to make sure you were okay but we didn't want to be too obvious about it so we agreed that this one period would be a good start," Brittany explained. Rachel gave Brittany a sharp look and Santana sighed and smacked her forehead.

"Make sure- Why wouldn't I be okay?" Quinn asked, her defenses going up.

"What Brittany means is now that we know there are bullies around and you and your friends are targets, we were hoping we could spend some time walking the halls with you. That way people know you're our friend and stop picking on you," Rachel hurried to reply.

Quinn relaxed slightly even as her annoyance kicked into overdrive. Was Rachel _still_ on that? "You don't have to worry about me, Rachel, or drag these two along with you."

"We weren't dragged!" Brittany protested, frowning slightly at the implication. "We wanted to make sure you were okay, too."

Quinn softened a little and gave Britt a small smile. "Alright, maybe not you. But Santana over here-"

"Came of her own free will, thank you very much. Do you really think I'd be here if I didn't want to be?" Santana put her hands on her hips and pouted.

Quinn blinked, heat of alarm running up her neck. "Since when- What does that mean?"

"Don't read into it too much, Fabray, or you'll hurt your pretty little head. It is what it is."

Quinn felt like the floor had dropped from under her, like she was spinning in space. Brittany wanting to be friendly was one thing, but Santana's venom had made it easier for Quinn to keep her distance through this project. Now Santana was acting practically… _nice_. She couldn't _do_ that, it would mess up everything Quinn had worked for. She took a step back, feeling like glass was breaking in her chest. Brittany took a concerned step forward, arms outstretched-

_-"I bet Brittany looks great in this."-_

"Well I don't want you here, Lopez, so just back the fuck off," Quinn snarled, causing Santana's eyes to narrow and Brittany to quail in her approach.

Rachel's eyes went wide with concern, unprepared for the extreme negative response from Quinn. Something about Santana and Brittany set Quinn off. Rachel put a hand discreetly on Santana's arm, trying to placate the now seething girl, and she said, "Well, we're all here, so let's just go to the library and work."

Quinn nodded sharply and turned on her heel, marching back toward the corner she'd rounded and outstripping the other three girls quickly.

As Quinn turned the corner she had just enough time to partially close her eyes as red slushie was thrown into her face. Miles Brody howled with laughter.

Quinn's eyes were slammed shut and she missed the unfolding off the next events. She heard a wildcat cry and felt two sets of hands grab her on either side as if afraid she'd fall. Quinn reflexively struggled against the hold on her, points of panic bouncing around her head, but Rachel's melodic voice was on her right saying that they were there to help and she slowly stilled. Risking even more stinging to her eyes, she opened them only just and she saw Santana pinning Brody to the hall floor and landing punch after punch on his face and chest.

Rachel said something to Brittany and Brittany let go of Quinn, going to pull her girlfriend off the hapless boy. Santana was still shrieking abuse and screaming intermittently in Spanish. Brittany easily picked her girlfriend up even as the enraged Santana still kicked at Brody's prone body.

"We're going to the bathroom," Rachel called over her shoulder at her two best friends as she steered Quinn away. The stinging was too much and Quinn reluctantly closed her eyes and let Rachel guide her through the halls. She hated feeling so _helpless_ , but if anyone was going to walk her through the halls blind and not let her get injured it was single-minded Berry.

Quinn heard the familiar creak of the swinging bathroom doors and Rachel's grip on Quinn disappeared, leaving Quinn reaching for her in frustration before a paper towel was pushed into her hand. Quinn quickly used it to clear her eyes. When enough slushie was removed she opened them and beelined to the sink to clear them further.

"Wait, Quinn, I can help you," Rachel said. Quinn looked at her doubtfully but Rachel had vanished out the bathroom door. Unsure of what to do, Quinn waited. Within thirty seconds Rachel was back with a plastic chair stolen from some classroom. She put it against the sink, motioning for Quinn to sit. "Just like a hair salon, lean back and I'll wash it out of your hair."

Quinn stood back, biting on her lips as she eyed Rachel for signs of deceit. All Quinn saw was Rachel's open, bright face as she turned on the faucet, letting the water run over her fingers to get it to a good temperature.

"…fine," Quinn whispered, sitting down and leaning her head back.

Rachel's fingers were soft as they started moving through Quinn's hair, working the warm water through with expert strokes. Quinn closed her eyes, gripping the sides of the chair until her knuckles turned white. Water splashed into her eyes and she jerked. Rachel's hand rested on her forehead to push her back down and sheer panic coursed through Quinn as she lost track of where she was. She jerked up again, her forehead colliding with the metal faucet. She twisted and half-tumbled out of the chair, landing on her knees, surging to her feet, and spinning wildly.

"Quinn!" Rachel yelled in alarm, her hand reaching towards Quinn. "What's wrong?"

Blinded momentarily by fear, forgetting where she was and whom she was with, Quinn's hand lashed out. Only at the last second did her hand uncurl from a fist, suddenly aware that it wasn't her dad standing in front of her. Instead of punching Rachel she slapped her across the face hard enough that Rachel staggered. When she stood back up, cradling her cheek, Quinn looked on in horror as the realization of what she'd done sank in.

"I am so sorry," Quinn gasped out, hating herself with every fiber of her being. "I- I didn't mean- I just-" But she couldn't explain that she'd been somewhere else entirely.

That she now took showers every day because when she'd tried to go full Skank and not bathe her dad had held her underwater in the bath. That she'd thought she was going to drown. How she couldn't get her hair washed at the salon anymore, either.

Rachel looked so scared of her and Quinn wilted, sagging against a nearby sink and closing her eyes. "I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it," Quinn started to repeat, to herself as much as to Rachel. She didn't want to be this person, a monster, what her dad had made of her. She _hadn't_ meant it, not to hit Rachel, who had been nothing but nice to her when by all rights Rachel should be horrible to her in return.

"Quinn," Rachel said softly. Quinn opened her eyes. Rachel had a moist paper towel against her cheek. There was a pinkness bleeding into the paper.

"Oh god," Quinn croaked with dread. "I hurt you." Saying it out loud meant that it was true.Quinn felt tears grow in her eyes.

Rachel took the towel away and Quinn could see the little scratch under Rachel's left eye from where Quinn's nail must have caught. She turned to the mirror and examined it critically before saying, "It's- well, no, it's _not_ okay. But I recognize that it was not _intentional_ , that something else made you react that way, and I accept your apology. I can actually appreciate the drama of a good slap, though it was undeserved." She turned back to Quinn and put on a small, sincere smile. "I forgive you, Quinn, so please don't beat yourself up. Are _you_ okay? You seemed-" Rachel trailed off, clearly uncertain of what Quinn had seemed. Mortally terrified despite that not making any sense.

"I- I'm-" Quinn stopped, took a shaky breath. "I don't like water in my face like that. Can- Can we try something else?"

"Okay…" Rachel said uncertainly, not at all pleased with the answer but fearful that pushing would make Quinn even more erratic. "Why don't we try with your face down? You'll still get water but it won't be so much falling onto your face as dripping?"

Quinn breathed out heavily, considering. Her father had held her in the water face up, and she hadn't been able to get a good grip on anything to pull herself out. Face down, while terrifying in its own way, would allow her the leverage of using her arms to thrust herself upward if she wanted to. Quinn nodded. "Let's try that… please?"

Rachel nodded and Quinn went back to the sink, moving the chair out of the way. Rachel handed her a paper towel, folded in thirds, and said, "Put this over your eyes so the water that runs into your face won't be so bad." Quinn quietly complied, bending down into the basin. The back of her right hand and her nose were both touching the sink bottom, it was that shallow but Quinn was able to duck her head under and only have the faucet grazing the top of her head. Dimly she realized that her forehead was throbbing and remembered she'd smacked it against the metal faucet in her quest to escape. She'd have to check it later.

Rachel resumed her gentle washing, nimble fingers getting all the sticky liquid out of her hair. She turned off the water and grabbed some towels, drying Quinn's hair some before she let the other girl out of the sink. "There. Now about your clothing-"

"I have a spare outfit in my backpack," Quinn said softly, looking down at the ground. She still felt absolutely sick with guilt. How could she have slapped Rachel? Caused her to _bleed_? She was such a deplorable human. Not even human at all.

"Quinn, please look at me."

After a long moment Quinn looked up. Rachel very carefully and slowly moved her hand forward, and when Quinn didn't flinch away she put it on Quinn's arm and squeezed. "I'm alright. It was an accident and you didn't mean to hurt me."

Quinn reached up to fiddle with a cross that was no longer around her neck. Not finding it she let her hand just hover. "Thank you, Rachel," she said, meaning it with all she had. Rachel's smile widened and she went to retrieve Quinn's backpack.

"Change in one of the stalls. We can swing by the nurse's before going to the library."

Quinn's face fell and she said, "Right, for your cheek."

Rachel looked confused then said in shock, "Quinn, haven't you seen your forehead?"

Quinn frowned, wrinkling the skin of her forehead and making her head sting without meaning to. She turned to look in the mirror. A half-moon cut was on the right side of her forehead, halfway between the center of her forehead and her temple. It wasn't bleeding, but a smudge of blood indicated that it had been. Quinn hadn't even noticed, she'd just thought she had a bump.

"Oh," Quinn said slowly, fingers hovering by the wound briefly. "It's okay, we don't have to stop at the nurse's office. I barely noticed it."

"You have to take care of that cut," Rachel scolded.

"So do you," Quinn retorted, glaring a little. What did it matter that she'd hurt herself because she was a moron? She'd hurt Rachel, too, and that hadn't been Rachel's fault.

"Fine! We can both get taken care of," Rachel replied stubbornly. They glared at each other for a moment. Quinn turned around and stormed into a stall to change. God, Rachel was so hard-headed! She stripped off her jacket, shirt and pants. All three had gotten soaked or at least splashed with slushie. She had a full outfit (including bra if that got too wrecked) in a plastic bag in her backpack. Frustrated with Rachel, wanting to fluster her a bit, Quinn threw her clothes over the top of her stall. She was gratified to hear Rachel let out a squeak of shock before huffing something under her breath. Quinn chuckled.

She shook out her wet hair, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping her damp shoulders off before she pulled on her new t-shirt and pants, finishing off with a gray striped sweater and a denim vest. She added her black beanie to keep her head warm even though it would mean a case of hat hair as her pink hair dried.

When she came back out Rachel started to say something about throwing clothing but she stopped mid-sentence and blushed. Quinn tugged her beanie self-consciously, not wanting to be reminded just then that Rachel would probably sleep with her if given the chance. Not after Rachel had been so sweet to her and seemed like she wanted to be her _friend_.

Then Rachel stomped her foot and marched up to Quinn, tugging her hat off. "Can't hide your cut from me, Quinn Fabray. You'll get this back after we get a Band-Aid."

Quinn had completely forgotten about her tiny wound, _again_.

"Okay, okay. Let me just," Quinn waved her hands, looking in the mirror and shaking her bangs into her forehead to semi-hide the wound. Rachel pouted and started to protest but Quinn stopped her before she got too far. "I'm _going_ , I'm going. I just don't want to walk through the hallways with an obviously bloody forehead."

Rachel looked uncertain but nodded. She helped Quinn stuff her soiled clothes into her plastic bag. Quinn stuffed it in her backpack and the two exited the bathroom.

Santana and Brittany were standing guard outside the bathroom. Quinn was startled to see it, but she smiled despite herself.

"Rachel, what's on your cheek?" Brittany asked with a frown.

The smile dropped off Quinn's face.

Santana looked between the two girls, and her face became a mask of rage. "Oh hell no, Fabray, you hurt her?!"

Santana started toward her, but Rachel stepped between them and there was a flurry of Rachel and Santana talking over each other, neither one of them hearing the other. Quinn felt like shrinking into the floor.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Before the girls could react Quinn was running down the hall and out of sight.

"Quinn, come back!" Rachel called after her, face falling. She stomped her foot and fisted her hands at her sides. "Santana! You scared her off!"

"Well good, she hurt you!" Santana snapped back.

"It was an accident! If you'd taken two seconds before _blowing off the handle_ , you'd have know that!" Rachel yelled back.

"Oh yeah, how'd she 'accidentally' hurt you?" Santana drawled sarcastically, but a look of uncertainty had descended on her eyes.

"She- well, I don't really know, she _freaked_ out. I scared her… and I don't know how, but she got so started, she wanted me to get off her and did the only thing she seemed to think possible. She was so frightened, San…"

Santana looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole but she hid it well. Only Rachel and Brittany could have been able to tell how bad she felt. Rachel's anger dissipated and she gave Santana a quick hug. "I think that it has something to do with what's wrong- she was so frightened and I didn't know what to do." Rachel was so miserable she couldn't even articulate it. The look on Quinn's face had nearly broken her heart.

"Can we go find her now, please?" Brittany asked from where she still stood, eyes looking down the hallway where Quinn had fled. "I don't want her to get slushied again, do you think she has more outfits hidden away?"

"That's a good idea, Britt," Rachel said with a nod, and the three girls went after Quinn.

.

Quinn ran out to her safe haven under the bleachers, fleeing from the girls, fleeing from the slushies, fleeing from the reality that she had smacked a girl across the face and was a monster just like her father. She paced in front of the bleachers couch, back and forth, the slap playing over and over in her head. The sound of it, the look on Rachel's face. It was horrible.

Quinn finally sat down, curling into herself with her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She put her forehead to her knees, ignoring the sting of her cut as it rubbed against denim. She didn't deserve to take care of her own hurts.

"Quinn?"

Quinn peaked out from behind her knees. Rachel stood in front of her, Santana off to side, Brittany vibrating next to Quinn until she couldn't contain herself any longer and sat down next to Quinn. She wrapped her arms around the pink-haired girl and began petting her head. "It's okay, we know it was a mistake."

"It's not the kind of mistake that I ever wanted to make," Quinn breathed, burying her face against Brittany's shoulder. Letting Brittany cuddle her was such an error in Quinn's judgment but in that moment it felt so good that she didn't pull away. No one had held her in so long and Brittany's hugs were the absolute _best_ kind of hugs.

"I'm sorry for going off on you, Q. You know how protective I am," Santana apologized without looking at her. Quinn couldn't believe her ears. Santana Lopez was apologizing? In _real life_? Quinn hadn't thought it possible. And she was apologizing for something that she had every right to be mad at Quinn for! 

"It's okay, Santana, I would have reacted the same way," Quinn said.

Rachel sat down next to Quinn and Santana perched on the armrest of the couch. Rachel smiled. "As weird as it may seem, Quinn, friends can forgive each other for the hard stuff. It's my decision to forgive you. You got it? You're forgiven, whole-heartedly, and beating yourself up over it is doing no one any good."

Rachel delicately brushed the bangs out of Quinn's face to reveal the small crescent wound. Santana hissed in sympathy and pulled her backpack onto her lap. She fished through it for a moment and then pulled out a Band-Aid.

Quinn chuckled before she could stop herself. "Really, San, still?"

"Old habits, Q," Santana said with a smirk, peeling the wrapping off the plaster and gently placing it on Quinn's forehead. Quinn closed her eyes as Santana pushed the adhesive tape so that it would stick and she remembered what it was like to have friends, to feel wanted. To feel loved.

She didn't deserve it. But she couldn't reject it again, it would tear her to pieces.

Such a weak-willed girl.

Quinn opened her eyes and bit her lip, a 'thank you' trapped on her tongue. Santana just grinned at her. Brittany gave her a peck on the cheek. "There," Brittany said happily. "Now you'll feel better!"

Quinn shook her head but gave Britt a smile. Santana turned to Rachel, pulling out another Band-Aid to tend to her next.


End file.
